Without You - Dramione
by orange-marmalade97
Summary: He loves her, she loves him. On opposite sides of a war neither chose to fight the only thing they can do is long for each other. Danger looms ahead and the road to redemption is a treacherous one. Will she be able to forgive him when he breaks free of the chains forged by his childhood? Alt-HBP&DH / slow burn / irregular updates / staying close to canon
1. Chapter 1: Dark Hallways

It was well after midnight when Hermione tiptoed out of bed, Harry's Invisibility Cloak thrown over her head, underneath wearing only her nightgown and slippers. A mischievous smile spread across her face as she exited the Gryffindor common room.

The dark hallways were deserted, snoring noises coming from either side of the walls. She didn't need a light, it wasn't completely dark and she knew the way to the library by heart. Besides, all of the portraits would probably start shouting murder if she interrupted their beauty sleep.

Once, she stopped dead in her tracks when Mrs. Norris strutted past, luckily Filch didn't follow.

" _Alohomora_ ," she whispered, arriving at the library door.

She had been trying to study for her exams these past few days, but the noise of her fellow students wasn't helping. The library was always packed and so was the Gryffindor common room. She needed to find a place for herself. She had thought about the Room of Requirement, but ever since it had been rediscovered people used it for when they needed a 'private place'. No, she needed something smaller, secret, something that belonged only to her.

She had often read about people enlarging spaces, living in them. One famous example being the suitcase of Next Scamander, which had contained a whole zoo.

She'd already practised with her purse, and it had worked better than expected. But space wasn't the only thing she needed, she needed a room, here, in the castle, where she could experiment, study, hide even.

When she arrived at her usual table she took of the cloak and started collecting books. It was hard to keep focused, every book she came across wanted to be opened, it's secrets discovered. No, she needed to focus.

A shiver ran through the library and Hermione looked up, trying to detect it's origin. But the smell of the pages and the feeling of the spines soon distracted her once more.

Book after book she had placed gently aside, not finding what she'd been looking for. But then, when she got to the Restricted Section, there it was _Magical Architecture: How to build a House for the common Witch or Wizard_ by _Germanus Goetheanum_.

With a spell she lifted the book from its shelf. Carefully she opened it and flipped through its pages, knowing books from the Restricted Section could be tricky. When she found the right chapter she almost jumped with excitement. _How to conjure a hidden room_. She waved her wand to copy the chapter, but her quill wouldn't budge. She tried again, to no avail. The book was enchanted.

"There is always the old fashioned way," she sighed and wished she had taken a normal pen with her. She started copying, this could take days.

After spending a few hours in the library Hermione decided she'd return to bed. Her whole arm was aching. That stash of coffee she'd brought from home would go faster than she'd anticipated. She'd have to ask her parents to send more. Perhaps she could sneak some from the kitchens, but she didn't like the idea of the house elves going above and beyond to fulfil her every wish.

As she put back the rest of her books an all too recognizable voice cut through her thoughts.

"Well, well, if it isn't Granger. Doing a bit of midnight reading, are we?" Draco sneered behind her. Hermione jumped and dropped the books. With a flick of his wand Draco stopped them mid-air.

"That's none of your business," she said after she'd collected herself and turned to face him, very aware that she was only wearing her nightgown. She almost felt his eyes piercing the thin fabric as he scanned her from top to toe. Her own eyes darted to the heap of silver that lay on the table behind the Slytherin. If only he would move she could-

He gave her a devilish smirk. "Wait till Professor Snape hears of it." Her attention snapped back to him.

"That worked out well last time, did it. When you thought we were hiding a dragon," Hermione sneered back, she couldn't help adding a ridiculing tone. It had been truly humorous.

Draco's face turned dark. "You were, I'm sure of it!"

The sound of the library door opening distracted them both and a faint 'meow' alerted them to trouble. When Draco turned to look, Hermione reached around him to grab the Cloak. Turning back Draco found he had been left alone.

"Granger! Granger, where are you," he whispered, his eyes wide and the panic apparent in his voice. He looked around nervously. Footsteps sounded as Filch closed in on him, light reaching around bookcases, licking at the points of Draco's boots.

"Granger, please, I'll owe you." He almost immediately regretted those words, what would his father think? He, a Malfoy, having to seek help by a mudblood. But Filch would not be kind to him and seeing this wasn't the first time he'd been caught roaming about the castle after curfew he was about to be in serious trouble.

An invisible force took hold of his hand and pulled him further towards the back of the library, right in between two bookcases. He got pushed against the wall and suddenly Hermione appeared.

"You owe me," she stated as she threw the cloak over his head. The cloak, not being built for two full grown people made it that she had to press herself into Draco, if she wanted both of them covered.

She laid her head against his chest and listened to his heartbeat, feeling the rise and falling of his chest, his shallow breaths warm in her hair. She hadn't realised she'd been cold until she indulged in the warmth he was radiating.

If he wasn't such a jerk this could have been quite romantic. Like the films she watched over the holidays.

Draco, equally aware of their close proximity, had a little more trouble staying indifferent. Sure, Hermione was a mudblood, but she was also a beautiful girl. And he – being the seventeen year old boy he was – couldn't help but notice her firm breasts pressing into his torso.

Suddenly an embarrassing memory floated to the surface. It had been last spring, Hermione had been sitting in the library, studying. The soft light that had flushed through the windows had surrounded her, giving her brown curls a hint of gold.

He had sat in an armchair, lazily studying her, unaware he even was. When he had closed his eyes it was had almost been like reality had continued.

 _Hermione looked up and smiled at him, motioning for him to come over._

 _"Draco," she said, her voice soft as honey. "I've been working on the assignment for Potions, but I can't quite figure it out. Can you help me?"_

 _"Of course," he said boastfully, noticing her faint blush. She turned back to her books and he leaned over her, hand on her back and with the other he pointed and explained. He noticed the smell of her blossomy perfume. She put a loose string of hair behind her ear, it was still the colour of molten chocolate. With his hand he stroked back all of her hair, laying bare the crook of her neck. She sat quietly, didn't oppose. Slowly he started kissing her shoulder, moving on to her neck. She gasped when he found her sweet spot and she laced her fingers through his hair._

 _"Draco," she whispered, her voice thick with pleasure. Then she turned around, hand on his chest, lowered eyes. "Draco, I'm new to this, does it hurt?"_

 _"It won't, I promise," he said as he closed in to kiss her again. Slowly, at first, but then she pressed her hips against him and fiercely kissed back. With one hand he reached behind her, swiping the books aside. He lifted her by her waist and sat her down on the table, she made a little sound of surprise and perhaps even pleasure._

 _His hand slithered underneath her skirt, reaching the side of her knickers he pulled at them playfully._

 _"Draco, I want you, Draco -" Her voice was hoarse, desperate, and who was he to refuse her._

"Malfoy!" A voice sneered at him, forcing him to open his eyes. Blood flushed towards his face when he realised what he'd thought about.

Hermione was no longer pressing himself against him, in reality or otherwise. He was glad the darkness surrounding them hid his face, but he could not see hers, either

"Filch is gone. Not a word about this, to anyone, understood?"

Draco nodded, realised she couldn't see and cleared his throat. "Understood."

He heard her tiptoe away and let out a deep breath, shoulders sagging. Relieve or disappointment, he couldn't say. It had been a dream, a crooked fantasy. He made himself remember all the times he had hated her, that minion of Potters, and clung to it. Yes, she was a filthy mudblood, and he would treat her as such.

Hermione, however, had not needed to see his face to know what he'd been thinking about. She'd felt it sure enough, when she'd stood so close to him. There had been absolutely no denying it. She truly thought it was funny. Next time he insulted her she'd know he was nothing more than a boy with boy's desires.

He must feel so conflicted, having to hate her and at the same time wanting her. That would teach him, she thought. Hermione slid into bed quite content, it had been a productive night.


	2. Chapter 2: Paper Frogs

It was only the next morning when Hermione fully felt the consequences of her late night undertakings.

"You look like a horde of Centaurs just ran over you," Ron so very graciously told her during lunch. The way she felt he probably wasn't even exaggerating.

This morning she had overslept and nearly missed her morning classes, she hadn't even had time to shower, let alone eat breakfast. She did so miss her Time Turner.

"Thanks Ron, you're looking quite dazzling yourself," she sneered back. She took some slices of toast to dip into her tomato soup.

"Ron is right, you do look horrible. Did you take my cloak to go to the library, again?" Harry joined the conversation. For a moment she contemplated biting his head off, too, then just shrugged.

"I work better at night, I get more creative." She didn't feel like explaining, but she did get more creative at night. When she was all alone, no one to interrupt her, that was when she got her best ideas. When she had been younger, before she had gotten her acceptance letter to Hogwarts, her parents had had to take away all her lamps because she would read till deep into the night. She'd made a habit of stashing emergency flashlights, for when she really had to finish a chapter. So her parents had proceeded to take away her books instead, but she'd gotten around to using decoys. She smiled dreamily, good old times.

"What are you making, an artwork?" Ron joked, and Hermione looked at him, not getting where this was going.

"You know, because you said you got creative.."

Hermione shook her head, irritated. "You can be creative in lots of ways, and if you don't shut up I'll be thinking of creative ways to hex you, Ronald Weasley," she threatened.

"Gee, Hermione, I was only joking." Ron exchanged looks with Harry, who shook his head and continued reading in his Potions book.

She motioned for Ron to pass her his books and piled them on top of her own, making a pedestal she could rest her head on. Twenty more minutes till the next class.

Lazily she watched the people moving through the Great Hall, observing them but distracted by her own thoughts at the same time.

She now had the right spell for her secret room, she only needed to make the paint for the runes that would strengthen the walls – you wouldn't want them collapsing around you. And on top of that she needed a place to actually hide the room. She had theorized it would be more effective to weave the room into Hogwarts, the castle had so much magic flowing through it so it would be easier to bent the physical laws of nature.

She'd thought of using a painting, like the entrance to the Gryffindor Tower, but that meant she had to find one who was willing and those people were stubborn, didn't like sharing there space with three dimensional people. Another option would be to just enchant a piece of wall. But it would be way too suspicious if she started disappearing into walls. Then there was the second floor girls lavatory, but every time she'd enter she'd have to get past Moaning Myrtle. And she had gotten quite enough of her constant stream of self-pity and dread when she had had to make that Poly Juice Potion back in second year. Every friggin' day she had had to check on it, dealing with the whiny ghost. No, the second floor's bathroom was only to be considered as a last resort.

But she had to find something soon; she was itching to start.

"Hermione." Harry tapped her on the shoulder. "We're going to be late for our next class."

Transfiguration, one of her favourite classes next to Charms, Arithmancy and Runes, given by the head of Gryffindor, Professor Mcgonagall.

While she usually sat at the front, Hermione decided to move a few rows back.

During the class McGonagall showed them how to turn a crow into a vase. Hermione, however, let herself be distracted by the little red and grey bird sitting on the tree branch outside. With a flash it turned into a little vase. Startled, Hermione's attention snapped to the front of the classroom.

"Would you like to share your thoughts with the rest of us, Miss Granger?" She shook her head.

"Then would you mind turning that poor bird back?" Professor McGonagall gave her a stern but encouraging look. Hermione rose from her seat and walked over to stand in front of the window. Feeling the eyes of the whole class on her usually didn't bother her, but she had been caught off-guard and felt a blush creeping upwards.

The glass vase had trouble balancing on the branch, a tiny brush of wind could blow it off. It was going to be a challenge to cast the spell through the glass without having it reflecting back. But it was just like image reflection, she needed to look past the glass to see outside. She got ready to cast the spell, when the vase tipped over. Quickly she waved her wand, hoping to catch the falling vase. The whole class held their breath, the tension increasing rapidly.

Had she failed? Killed that poor bird as it would shatter on the odd stones that hid in the grass. She turned back to McGonagall, waiting for her disapproving gaze. Suddenly Neville pointed at the window and all the Gryffindors roared, even the Ravenclaws clapped appreciatively. Hermione turned back around just in time to see a very confused, but very much alive robin rise up and fly away.

"Very well, Miss Granger, ten points to Gryffindor." Hermione sat down with a relieved smile on her face and didn't let her attention wander again.

"That was wild, Hermione," Ron complimented her as they moved to their next class. "I probably wouldn't have gotten past the window."

"You would've turned yourself into a bird," Harry laughed.

"But I'd be a very beautiful bird, an eagle or a phoenix, like the one professor Dumbledore has."

"You wished, you'd probably be a barn owl, like Errol."

"I'd be a swallow," Hermione mused and they both looked at her.

"Well, I'd be a raven," Harry then said, "ravens are smart, you know. Or a falcon, they are the fastest birds in the world. Yeah, I'd be a falcon," he decided, after some careful consideration.

"I think you'd be a duck, Potter." Malfoy's voice roared across the hallway, turning everyone's attention to the freshly created conflict. His fellow Slytherins started laughing as Draco hopped around making 'quack, quack' noises.

"If he's a duck, then you're a chicken," Ron shot back. For a moment Malfoy's face went blank, astonished he hadn't thought of that. The trio pushed past him before Malfoy could collect himself, laughing at his failed attempt.

"He really needs to get more creative with his insults," Harry laughed.

Ron agreed, "Yeah, his dad is probably too busy kissing dementors to teach him."

"I heard that!" Malfoy shouted angrily at their backs, but they didn't turn around.

"Shit," Hermione slapped her hand against her forehead and stopped walking. "My next class is Runes, Malfoy does Runes."

Both Harry and Ron burst into laughter. "That'll be a pleasure," Harry said.

"Yeah, give him my regards."

Hermione gave Ron a playful push. "Oh, shut up, both of you."

"You're a big girl, 'Mione, you can handle the git," Ron assured her, before they parted ways.

Hermione turned the corridor to get to her next class. "Well, see you later," she shouted over her shoulder.

The whole class she felt his eyes burning in her back, which made it rather difficult for her to concentrate. These are very important protection runes, she reminded herself as she ignored any thought of the fair haired Slytherin sitting only a few rows behind her.

A little paper origami frog hoped onto her desk, nudging her hand for attention. _Open me_ , it read on the top. She let it jump around for a while before she gave in to her curiosity.

 _We need to talk, D.M._

Hermione finally looked behind her and Malfoy meaningfully raised an eyebrow, waiting for her answer.

 _What do you want_ , she wrote underneath his words. It took her a while to fold the frog back. She had made those things when she was a child. Muggles would press on the backside and they'd jump up. Funny Malfoy knew how to fold one. When she let it back to the ground it happily hopped back to Malfoy.

It took a while for the next frog to arrive at her desk. It had two little eyes drawn on it this time, which made her smile.

 _7PM broom closet next to the charms classroom, be there._

Hermione turned around once more, but didn't reply, ignoring his stares for the rest of the day.


	3. Chapter 3: The Breakable Vow

After dinner Hermione still hadn't decided what to do. It would not be unlike Malfoy to try and lure her into some kind of trap. He must still be angry for that time she'd punched him in the face. She chuckled, he had deserved it though. Not that he would ever admit it had happened, at all.

She took out the little frog of her pocket and watched it jump around on the table. Having been read but having no message to return it didn't quite know what to do with itself.

She pocketed it again when the portrait of the Fat Lady swung open and Ron entered through.

"Practice was murder. I almost got hit by a bludger, twice. I still think bludgers are more dangerous during practice, so it'll be easier during the games," Ron ranted on as he sat down next to Hermione. She knew better than to comment on his theories on Quidditch. Before you knew it he'd insist on telling you the full story of how the Chudley Cannons won against the Delirious Dragons in 1988.

"Where's Harry? I thought we were going to do the History of Magic homework together," she swiftly changed topics.

"He went to the owlery, said he needed to think. But we could just get started. I don't even have a topic for my essay yet."

"You can't do it about Quidditch, again," Hermione warned him. Somehow Ron always found a way to make his essays at least mention Quidditch. He had once handed in an essay to professor Snape with something along the lines of 'The qualities of flobberworm mucus were discovered by Theopolis Vicker, who also happened to be the grandfather of the famous seeker Alethea Vicker, who plays for the Dungeon Deities as a keeper.' Snape had failed him and Ron had had to redo the entire assignment.

"It clearly states it had to be about 'a battle that was of importance during the war of the Giants.'"

"But that was ages ago, what does it matter whether it was Gorgoyle or Gregory who won that one specific battle. They're all dead now, anyway," Ron whined.

"Those who fail to learn from history are doomed to repeat it," Hermione quoted ominously.

"Who said that?"

"Winston Churchill."

"Who?" Ron asked again. Sometimes Hermione forgot how oblivious wizards and witches could be to everything that happened outside of their world.

She sighed, "Nevermind." She closed her books and put them in her bag.

"Where are you going, what about the assignment?" Ron asked, eyeing her desperately.

"To the library. I already finished mine last week," she said and walked away.

One big reason that she was so good at doing her homework: she didn't procrastinate. Once she got an assignment she started on it right away, doing just a little at a time. Thus she always finished on time. Unlike those who started two days before it was due. They had to do all that work at once. Some got it done, after pulling two all-nighters combined with a lot of stress. And others just didn't. She'd tried to teach Harry and Ron that method, but they never seemed to listen.

It was nearing seven o'clock. She took a piece of parchment and wrote: _7.05 pm, the boathouse_. She folded it into an airplane and enchanted it to find Malfoy.

She had decided she'd only meet him on her conditions. Changing the location last minute meant it was less likely she walked into one of his traps.

Draco was waiting nervously in the boom closet. It was already one minute past. He heard a soft thump against the wooden door. Again. He opened it and a little paper airplane flew inside, hoovering in front of his face until he caught it.

He grunted and crumbled the paper; it was cold and he didn't feel like walking all the way to the boathouse. He would break his neck trying to descend the slippery steps while covered in darkness. Why did she have to be so difficult. What was he going to do to her, lock her up in the broom closet? Then he realized he was indeed fully capable of doing that and flash of anger shot through him. Was he that predictable?

She was sitting in one of the boats, back towards him. He could just hex her right now. Turn her hair green or give her a lizard's tale. Instinctively he took out his wand.

"Don't even think about it, Malfoy," Hermione said sternly, her wand pricking in his neck. He raised his hands in surrender. The image in the boat faded, smart.

"I knew you were up to no good," she hissed and walked round so she could face him.

"I didn't mean to..." He stopped, everything he'd say would sound like a weak excuse.

"What were you going to do to me, petrify like you did last time to Harry. And then what? Break my nose, leave me here and send Filch to find me after curfew?" She grew angrier with the second. She had helped him and this was how he repaid her. But what had she expected, he was a Malfoy after all.

"Are you done?" he asked, looking amused. She shot him an angry glare but remained silent.

"I came," he took a step back and lowered her wand, "to thank you, and repay you. I'd rather not stay indebted to a mudblood." He saw her flinch and instantly regretted saying the M-word. But he couldn't help himself, dissing the golden trio had kind of become second nature to him.

"So, what do you want. Gold, a new broomstick, books. I'll even let you take a shot at Crabbe and Goyle," he all so very generously offered.

Funny how the only thing he could do was offer gold and betray his friends.

"Why were you in the library," she suddenly asked. Stupid she hadn't questioned that fact before, she must have been too tired.

"What," he said, obviously taken aback by the question. She looked at him with those piercing eyes and he stumbled over his words.

"Why- why were you in the library?" Ha! He had countered her question with a question. She'd probably been searching for some information regarding Potter's next adventure.

"I was studying," she answered simply.

"At night?" He tried, hoping her answer would waver.

"I like the quiet, keeps me concentrated." He couldn't respond to that.

"Your turn, why were you in the library," she asked again, obviously not letting this go. But he couldn't quite tell her he'd been busy plotting the murder of professor Dumbledore, now could he.

"Erh, studying." Hermione raised an eyebrow. "I also happen to like the quiet," he muttered.

"Yeah, right," she whispered. She turned around and headed for the gate.

"Granger, wait. The debt."

She turned back, thinking it over once more. "I'd like you to stop calling me a mudblood," she finally said, "in my presence or otherwise. Can you do that?"

Slowly, Draco nodded and took Hermione's offered hand. But instead of a handshake she whispered a few enchantments.

Immediately Draco pulled back his hand, holding it to his chest like he'd been injured. "Did you just make the Unbreakable Vow?" he screeched hysterically.

Hermione shook her head, her eyes glittering with pleasure and her mouth turned to a smirk.

"No, but now, every time you call me a mudblood, I'll know." With that she turned around, robes swirling around her and made her way to the castle.

Draco was left feeling silly and cursing himself. "You sounded like a little girl," he spat as he turned to watch Hermione disappear into the darkness.

That night Draco tried not to be bothered by the fact that she had such low opinions of him. It was justified, after all. In truth it was jealousy that drove him to act as an unbearable prat.

The golden trio, outshining him at every turn and for what? He was a pureblood, a Malfoy. People should be praising him like they did Harry Potter. And Ron, that insignificant little weasel had triumphed where he had failed, to rally the boy-who-lived to his side that very first day. He, Draco Malfoy, deserved to be the best, to outshine all his classmates, like Hermione did, and yet they always seemed to win. He wanted to scream into his pillow. Next time, he told himself, next time he would win.


	4. Chapter 4: Home for Christmas

It was two weeks later when Hermione finally found the time to create her new room. Tomorrow the essay of A History of Magic was due and people were either stressing in the library or their common rooms. No snogging couples in the corridors or first years running about. Everyone had some assignment to finish before the holidays. She basically owned them, and had a hard time keeping her gait normal and the huge smile off her face.

Draco's message had given her the inspiration she needed; she would make her secret room in the broom closet. But with a twist. She wouldn't enter her room as she entered the closet, but rather as she left it. That way she made sure that no one saw her enter anything else than an ordinary broom closet. And from there she'd enter her room. Brilliant, even if she said so herself.

She was almost skipping through the hallways, unable to hide her excitement. This was some next level magic and she was ready to test herself.

When she passed Malfoy in the hallway she went rigid, as if everything she were planning was written on her face. Her heart thumped in her chest so loud that she thought he might hear. He passed her by without a second glance. Strange, perhaps she should follow him. He was looking rather gloomy and ever since Harry had tried to convince them he was a Death Eater, she had noticed that Draco had been looking nasty, more so than usual.

How come every time she was up to no good, he wasn't either.

"Whatever," she sighed. "Let him do his evil Malfoy stuff."

It took her all of five hours before she finished all the enchantments. She was tired and hungry, but when she finally saw the result she was flooded with happiness. It wasn't a big room, maybe about the size of her bedroom at home. And just like that one it was hers, and hers alone. It still needed decorating, of course. But it was perfect.

She sat down on the cold stone floor and enjoyed the space for a while. She truly was the brightest witch of her age. Although no one would never hear her admit that.

"'Mione, where have you been. We missed you at the library," Harry greeted her as she entered the Gryffindor common room.

She slumped down on the couch. She was drained. "Oh you know, just enjoying the .. weather."

Both Harry and Ron looked outside and back to Hermione. "It's been pouring all day," clarified Ron, his voice filled with disbelief.

"Hmm, very enjoyable," she agreed and drifted asleep.

She slept the whole way home, asking Ron to take over her Prefect duties to patrol the train. Both Harry and Ron were a little confused, but they let her sleep nonetheless.

"She must have worked really hard on that essay," Harry said to answer Ron's question. They walked past the various compartments, checking if the other students weren't wrecking too much havoc.

"She does realise she can't earn more than a hundred points, right?" Ron asked. Harry just shrugged, it wouldn't be the first time she did. Every compartment they came across he would look and check inside, not really listening to Ron's continued ramblings.

"Are you looking for someone, mate?" Ron eventually asked, noticing Harry wasn't really interested in whether Hermione might be secretly dating McLaggen.

"No.." he answered, a little distracted, because he had been looking for someone, and he had finally found her. Now the only thing he needed to do was getting rid of Ron.

"Look," he pointed behind his friend, "I think I saw Lavender exiting that compartment." Ron, looking around in a panic, managed to let out a "see you later," before disappearing in the opposite direction. Harry smiled a little guiltily, before he entered the almost empty compartment in front of him. The girl put down her magazine and smiled. "Hi, Harry," she said in her sweet voice, making him forget his previous guilt.

Draco Malfoy was roaming restlessly through the train. He was sick of his friends' festive spirits. They didn't understand that the times coming would be dark and hard. How could they celebrate Christmas if they knew what lay ahead. The Dark Lord had returned and he was growing stronger every day. However much Draco wanted to tell them that he had been chosen, he couldn't. The task that he had in front of him was not an easy one, but it was crucial to the Dark Lord's plans. Dumbledore must die, and he was the one to do it.

He had noticed that he had entered the Gryffindor part of the train, but most people stayed put in their compartments. He didn't need to be seen here by Potter or his accomplices. Suddenly, a compartment door opened and a waft of laughter reached his ears. Was that Potter? He shot into the first seemingly empty compartment he could find and closed the blinds. Not that he was scared, no a Malfoy was never scared, but he was too tired to confront Potter alone.

A soft 'meow' distracted him from his thoughts and looking down he saw an ugly red cat sniffing his leg. He turned around and his heart jumped at the sight of another person in the compartment. No movement, it was barely a person at all. Just a heap of cloaks, functioning as blankets, and a waterfall of brown frizzy curls coming from underneath.

"Hello?" Draco called softly. No response. He decided it was safe to stay, picked the sad excuse for a cat up and sat down. Flat Face stationed itself on his lap and immediately started to purr.

"Well, you're not a hard one to please." He looked over at the, he was fairly sure it was a girl, again and wondered who it was. His questions were answered when she moved a little and a piece of cloak fell from her face, leaving Malfoy shocked.

"Granger!" he let out a loud whisper. How come he had had a multitude of awkward encounters with her this term. He looked back at the cat, who had started to 'meow' for attention and let out a smirk. "You look just like her," he sniggered.

When she moved again he decided it was too risky to stay and left the compartment. But not without noticing the faint smile that played around Hermione Granger's lips.

Harry, Ron and Hermione had all found each other again just before the train boarded Kings Cross station. Together they waited at the platform, ready to collect their bags.

"McLaggen is really into you," Ron noticed and nodded to someone behind her. Before Hermione knew it she had already turned around, locking eyes with McLaggen who waved enthusiastically. She gave him a polite smile before turning back around.

"Yeah, I've noticed, but he's not exactly my type." It was true that she had asked him to come to Slughorn's Christmas party with her, but it had been a disaster. Yes, he was handsome and his smile could make any girl's heart beat faster, but getting to know him was a whole other matter. The only thing he could talk about was Cormac McLaggen. Even his cheesy pick-up lines ended up as a compliment to himself. And she had tried to look past that, truly she had, just for the sake of his handsomeness. But the fact that he was a bad kisser, trying to grope her all over and slobbering all over her mouth, had been a real deal-breaker. She glanced over at him once more, noticing the horde of girls that had assembled themselves around him to wish him a merry Christmas. She couldn't help but wonder whether they would still swoon over him did they know.

"I'm going to miss you guys," she said, putting McLaggen off her mind, and she pulled her best friends into a hug. "Even if it's only for a week."

"We'll miss you, too, Hermione," Harry said, trying not to get choked in her embrace. Ron could only nod.

Draco exited the train looking around, knowing he shouldn't expect his parents to be here to pick him up, yet still unconsciously searching. Instead he found one of their house-elves standing next to his already collected luggage. He had greeted his friends earlier on the train, but still looked around, not yet wanting to part. He knew what awaited him at Malfoy's manner, and he wasn't as pleased with their new house guest as he was supposed to be. Sure, he followed and respected the Dark Lord, but the dude sure was creepy and with his father in Azkaban he had to hold high the family honour.

As his eyes slid over the many reunions and hugs he found Hermione staring at him, giving him a faint smile. Did she know? That he had watched her sleep in her compartment. He shook his head, she couldn't have. He got distracted by the enormous amount of giggles that came from behind him. Then he saw McLaggen, and it clicked, she must have smiled at him. He had seen those two together, after he had been thrown out of the Christmas party, snogging in the corridor.

"Of course she wouldn't smile at you, you buffoon," he whispered to himself before making his way to the house-elf. It offered it's hand, which Draco reluctantly took and with a 'pop' they stood in front of the gates of Malfoy Manner.

"Welcome home, master," the house-elf said, his voice raspy and not very welcoming. Draco gave it one revolting look before walking through the iron gate, making his way to the front door.

Sitting in the back seat of her parent's car, Crookshanks purring on her lap, she felt like a normal girl again. No N.E.W.T.s to worry about, no magic and no Voldemort. It might come as a surprise but Hermione felt it to be a relief to not have to use her wand for a week or two. To just be that muggle, being able to pretend to be oblivious to the war that slowly unravelled around them.

And besides, creating that room had been a serious drain on her energy, she needed the rest.

The first thing she did while back in the Muggle-world was going grocery shopping. At a normal British Tesco. No magical candy that would bite your fingers off if you didn't watch out, or chocolate frogs that would jump away the moment you opened the package. Just plain old biscuits. And pounds, yes pounds. It was like heaven on earth being able to spend pounds again. Always those damn galleons and sickles and knuts. Oh, how she loved being home again. She never really thought about it at Hogwarts, but those wizarding folk sure were a weird bunch.

The streets were filled with people when she and her mother went Christmas shopping. Getting something for Mr. Weasley was easy, he'd be happy with the most ordinary things. Ron she got some ballpoints, he always smeared ink all over his hands and papers. She got a pretty necklace for Ginny and some Muggle prank stuff for Fred and George. For Molly she bought a pink shawl. Harry she got a little Father Christmas who sang 'merry Christmas'.

Hermione held her mother close to her as the crossed the cold streets, snow swirling down and their breaths leading the way before them. She did so very much love Christmas.


	5. Chapter 5: The Yule Ball

"I'm going to miss you, honey," her mother told her as they hugged. Her father had to pinch a tear away.

"It was a marvellous Christmas. Now don't cry dad, or you'll make me cry too," Hermione told her parents between hugs.

"I know, I'm just so proud of you. My little witch is almost a full grown woman now."

"Dad," she pushed back her tears and hugged him again.

Mr. Weasley was waiting in the living room, studying their T.V. like it was some rare creature.

"I promise I'll write, okay." Her parents nodded and held each other, already looking forward to the letters their daughter would send, detailing her many adventures.

"It was good to see you, Arthur. Do come over for tea, when you can," Mrs Granger invited Arthur. Who accepted her invitation, delighted. In the years that Hermione had attended school Mr. Weasley and her parents had become very good friends. He had helped them to understand the Wizarding World a bit better and they were always happy to answer his many questions about toasters and such.

"Goodbye Arthur," her father nodded and they exited the living room. Seeing their daughter disappear in to thin air made them both a little queasy.

Hermione took arm and together they apparated to Grimmauld place.

"'Mione!" Ron almost ran her over as he crushed her in a hug.

"Ron, it's nice to see you, too," she laughed.

"I've been going crazy here, everyone is running about and no one is telling us anything. I mean, even Fred and George aren't allowed in on the meetings. Of course they weren't about to get kept out so they devised a way to spy," Ron rambled on as Hermione tried to make her way through the small hallway., occasionally looking up to the covered painting. Luckily the witch was vast asleep, not noticing the 'bloodtraitors' entering her beloved home.

"Anyway, it's good seeing you," Ron concluded and Hermione nodded. "You too Ron. Where's Harry?"

"Dumbledore came to visit, took him with him, said they'd be back tomorrow." Hermione was a bit disappointed, she had been burning to ask Harry if he was okay; he hadn't answered her many letters.

"Here," she handed Ron a wrapped package, "a late Christmas gift."

"Magical," she heard Ron whisper once he figured out he didn't need an ink pot to write. Leaving Ron to his present Hermione went to greet the other people presently residing at Grimmauld place.

"I think my brother is totally into you," Ginny told Hermione with a smirk. The two girls had retreated in their joint bedroom.

"Which one," Hermione joked.

"Ron, of course! He couldn't wait for you to arrive, talked about you all week. I was this close to hexing his mouth shut." Ginny pinched her two fingers together to show how close.

"I hear you and Dean are doing well," Hermione quickly changed the topic. She had suspected Ron was feeling more than he supposed to, she'd just hoped that as long as she ignored it it would blow over.

"And how much older is he?"

"Two years, but he's so sweet," Ginny smiled, and passed Hermione a small flask. "Stole it from the twins, fire whiskey," she clarified. Hermione smelled the flask before taking a sip.

"That is strong," she coughed, giving the flask back to Ginny, who couldn't stop giggling. "It sure is." Both girls stayed quiet, enjoying the burning sensation of the whiskey burning in their throats.

"I saw you, at the Christmas party, with McLaggen," Ginny stated, "is that going somewhere?"

"Most definitely not! The guy is a disaster. So full of himself, but when it actually comes to it he doesn't deliver."

"So you two didn't … go at it, then?"

"No, god no. I mean, we snogged a little, but that's about it, why?" Ginny shook her head. "And what about you two," Hermione continued, wiggling her eyebrows, "did you two 'go at it' already?"

Ginny blushed and smiled. "He was so sweet, saying he wanted my first time to be special."

"And, how was it?" Once again Ginny was lost in smiles. Hermione knew that look, her friend had fallen head over heels for Dean.

She sighed and was reminded of her first time. It had been fourth year, the night of the Yule Ball. All night they'd danced, his hand on her back, her head against his chest.

"I still can't believe you took me, out of all those pretty girls," she whispered against his shoulder, the animal fur tickling her nose.

He had found her at the bottom of the stairs, crying. She had felt like that first year again, the insufferable-know-it-all. Alone in a world she did not understand. Even though it was so different now, she had Harry and Ron, her two best friends. But how could she feel valued if they couldn't help but take her for granted. Viktor made her feel special, not smart or brave, but beautiful and wanted. She'd been so hurt when Ron had offered to take her as a last resort, assuming she'd be available. Guess what Ron, she was taken, and by someone who actually liked her.

Viktor took a step back and looked into her eyes. "Believe it, it's true," he said with that thick accent of his while he wiped the remainder of her tears away. She smiled when she looked at his stern face, his beautiful brown eyes that showed all the emotion he needed to relay. Without pause she raised herself to her toes and softly kissed his lips. He kissed her back.

He had walked her to the Fat Lady's portrait and urged her to go inside. "Goodnight."

Hermione, however, wasn't letting go so easily. "But the night is young. I don't want to sleep," she whined, dancing around him and hanging her full weight on his shoulder. She might have drunk a little too much of that punch she had seen Lee Jordan and the twins hang around.

"It is one in the morning," he said matter-of-factly.

She wasn't taking no for an answer. "You have walked me back to my door, now I shall walk you back to your door, it's only fair." She took him by the arm, leading him down to the main hall.

"That does not make sense." His protest was weak and he knew it. He liked seeing her happy, jumping around and dancing to her own tunes. She was always so reserved, and who was he to take this moment away from her.

He buried her in his fur jacket when they made their way down to the Black Lake, holding her hand so she wouldn't slip. Quietly they sneaked on to the giant ship. Viktor stopped in front of his room.

"This is my door. Now ve valk back to yours," he tried to convince her, but Hermione, shaking her head, darted past him.

"I want to see your room," she said and opened the door. His room was big, befitting of a champion, and unlike hers he didn't have to share with anyone. Viktor closed the door behind them and watched Hermione as she made her way through his room picking up things and putting them down again.

For the first time in his life he didn't know what to do next. He had slept with many girls; one of the advantages of being a famous seeker. But those times it had been different, physical and physical only. He really liked Hermione and he had noticed the beauty she possessed. Only he liked her for more than that. He did not wish to hurt her.

Hermione kicked off her shoes, shook off the coat and walked towards Viktor. Kissing her again he realised he could not contain himself, and his worries disappeared like a heap of snow in front of a fire.

He lifted her and carried her to the big bed. In a twirling madness of fabric they finally got rid of their clothes. They kissed so frantically they almost forgot how to breath. He stopped to look at her, pink cheeks, head surrounded by a crown of chestnut curls, chest heaving up and down.

"Are you okay?" he asked once more.

Hermione nodded, not trusting her voice. She was scared, it was her first time but Viktor was gentle, taking care not to hurt her. And even though it did hurt, a little, it wasn't a bad pain, but rather quite enjoyable.

She lay next to him, his arms folded around her. She could feel the shallow rising of his chest against her back, knowing he was asleep. She enjoyed laying here with him, she wanted to study his face, but didn't dare move. Their legs were intertwined and as she took his hand, to intertwine their fingers as well, he stirred. "Goodmorning."

His raspy voice tickling her hair made her smile and she turned around. He kissed her brow, proceeded to look at her, lost in her eyes. "Ve should get up or ve'll miss breakfast," he told her, although he did not move himself.

"I could lay here all day," admitted Hermione and moved a little closer to his warm body, feeling the morning chill run over her skin. Viktor did not disagree.

It was well in the afternoon when Hermione finally got up and dressed.

"I'll meet you in the hall, for lunch."

"Do you vant me to valk you back to your door," he joked and pulled her in for another kiss.

With her slippers in her hand she made her way up to the castle. Frost bit into her feet, however the blares on both heels prevented her from wearing her slippers again. That'd teach her from choosing pretty over practical once more.

It was only when she entered the castle that she needed to watch out. At Hogwarts gossip spread faster than the black death. She walked with dignity, there would be no sneaking about. Luckily there weren't many people out in the hallways anyway. She must not be the only one sleeping in.

Hermione reached her room relatively unseen. She had gotten a few questioning stares but nothing to worry about. Parvati cocked up an eyebrow when she entered their bedroom, which she answered with a mysterious smile.

[Edit: I previously stated the Burrow burned down, that was a mistake so I changed it.]


	6. Chapter 6: Behind his Mask

The first thing they did back at Hogwarts was going for a butter beer at the Three Broomsticks. Harry suddenly got oddly specific about the seating, but it became clear why when Professor Slughorn turned to their table.

Harry later told Ron and Hermione that Professor Dumbledore had given him the with assignment of getting some important memories out of him It made Hermione somewhat less angry when she knew Harry was kissing up Professor Slughorn on Dumbledore's orders. Although she did still disapprove of the Half-Blood Prince's book. Potions should work the way they are described in her lesson book, not according to some mad man's scribbles.

She had grown tired of the conversation Harry and Professor Slughorn were having about one of his former students, Ambrosius Flume, owner of Honeydukes, and her eyes wandered through the packed room. From the table in the back she had a very advantageous viewpoint.

She noticed Ginny and Dean Thomas snogging in one of the boots and smiled. She was reminded of Krum and decided she should write him a letter, soon. The shrunken heads at the entrance started throwing insults, meaning someone was about to enter. An indeed, Malfoy walked in, stopped a moment nervously scanning the bar – Hermione ducked deeper into the shadows - before going straight for the toilets. He was clutching something against his chest, tucked inside his jacket.

She had been wondering what he had been up to when he, once again, had not attended the prefect's meeting that had taken place in the train. Ever since Malfoy had stopped coming to meetings there had been speculation that he had dropped out. Pansy Parkinson said she didn't know and no one else felt like asking him directly. Harry was still convinced Malfoy had turned to the dark side, but Hermione wasn't one to jump to hastly conclusions. She dismissed the thought and didn't think much of it.

It was only when Katie Bell was flung into the air like a rag doll, that Hermione connected the dots.

"Malfoy," she whispered to herself. Harry and Ron ran towards Katie Bell and her friend, her face filled with terror. Katie let out a heart piercing scream and plummeted to the ground.

"What's going on," Harry asked a sobbing Leanne.

"I – I don't know… It was when she opened the package that.." She couldn't take her eyes off of her friend, who had now started to kick and scream, unable to recognize any of them.

"I'm going to get some help," Harry said and ran off, back towards Hogsmade.

"She's going to hurt herself," Hermione said, moving closer, "we should hold her still." She and Ron both dove on top of her, trying to get a hold of Katie's writhing body.

"Get back," she heard Hagrid's voice shout. She moved away, letting him pick up Katie and watched him hurry towards the castle.

Her eyes slid from the package on the ground to the crying girl that stood beside it. She hurried over and pulled her into a hug.

"It's Leanne, isn't it?" The girl could only nod. Hermione watched with eagle's eyes as she saw Ron and Harry turn their attention to the package. Ron had almost picked it up, only stopped by Harry's loud "Don't." Harry pulled back his arm, saving him from a terrible fate. "I've seen that before, at Borgin and Burkes. The label said it had been cursed."

"We can't just leave it like this, we should take it back to the castle," Ron remarked, looking rather queasy. Neither of the boys seemed too eager to pick it up.

Hermione pulled out her wand. " _Wingardium Leviosa_ ," she whispered and silently they all watched the opal necklace float into the air.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" she asked and started making her way to the castle, not once taking her eyes of the necklace.

After they had given their statement to Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape Hermione excused herself and hurried towards their common room. Harry had told their teachers he suspected Malfoy of being responsible for this incident, but without any proof it was but a faint accusation. Hermione knew that and hadn't added what she had seen, it wouldn't help either. She figured that in confronting Malfoy she'd have better results.

Sneaking into the boy's dormitory was easy. Fighting her way through the chaos was not. She marvelled at the mess that was scattered around. Books, socks, papers, a single broken feather and a lot of candy wrappers. Four of the five beds were unmade and mountains of clothing – about to fall off - sat on top of each of the chairs standing next to the beds. Her fingers itched to cast a simple cleaning charm. She ignored the feeling and hopped from one free spot to the next, making her way to Harry's bed. An empty piece of parchment lay on top of his night stand.

" _I solemnly swear I am up to no good_ ," she said, the tip of her wand resting on the paper. Slowly the hallways of Hogwarts appeared, filling itself with tiny little footsteps.

"Draco, Draco, Draco, where are you," she muttered as she scanned the map for his name. She found him on top of the Clock Tower, his feet unmoving. She also saw Harry and Ron advancing towards the Gryffindor common room.

" _Mischief Managed_ ," she whispered and quickly made her way outside, careful not to run into Harry and Ron.

It was cold when she reached the top of the tower, the wind pulling at her hair playfully. An eerie light shone through the white glass that made up the clock. She scanned the room and saw him sitting in a corner, knees folded to his chest and his head rested on top. He had yet to notice her. She stood quiet, perplexed, taking up the scene displayed in front of her. She had not expected this. She saw he was shaking now, or rather shuddering, like he was crying.

She took two steps forward and stopped again. "Draco," she called, uncertain. He looked up, startled, and immediately turned away, trying to hide his tear stained face.

"Go away," he pleaded, but she couldn't oblige. She couldn't leave him like that and sat down next to him putting a hand on his shoulder. He tensed up and looked at her, the hurt clear in his eyes. He seemed to want to push her away, but then he moved closer and started crying against her shoulder.

"I – I..." he stammered, unable to form the words. "I didn't..."

"It's okay," she told him and stroked his back a little awkwardly.

"I didn't mean to hurt her." It came out in a whisper but Hermione heard it clearly. Knowing what it meant she pulled him closer nonetheless.

When his breathing eased and his tears stopped falling, Draco pulled back. He hated himself for this moment of weakness he had allowed himself.

Hermione could not read his expression, but it soon became anger and he turned away from her. They sat next to each other in silence, mere centimetres apart. She looked at him, wondering what he was thinking about. She did not even know what she herself had been thinking about.

When he finally looked at her again she noticed the unusually grey colour of his irises, like liquid silver. Even with those bloodshot eyes and red nose she could not deny his beauty.

"Granger, I- "She could not let him finish that sentence. Another excuse, another insult. She felt him carefully putting up his mask again, rebuilding his walls, and she did not want that to happen. So she leaned in and softly pressed her lips on his. He sat as if frozen, and after a few seconds she pulled back. Unable to meet his eyes, that undoubtedly stood big in surprise and maybe even disgust, she stood up and turned away.

Why, Hermione, why? Why did she have to embarrass herself like that. But he had seemed so open, so vulnerable, she hadn't been able to help herself. That moment he was about to close himself again, something in her had screamed to not let that happen and she had thrown herself over his walls, while they were still low.

Thoughts were racing through her head at the speed of light, one more confusing than the other,

"Now we both have something to be embarrassed about," she said, and without looking back she left for the staircase.

She ran the whole way down, she could have broken her neck, scared to hear him calling her name, demanding an explanation.

All the way to her room she was afraid that it would show, show that she had kissed Draco Malfoy. In her dormitory she flung herself on her bed, burying her head beneath her pillow. Should've flung myself from the tower instead, she thought

Tomorrow classes would resume and she followed at least three with Malfoy. Hermione wondered if she could still catch the Hogwarts Express back.


	7. Chapter 7: The Malfoy she knew

For weeks Hermione had honed the art of avoiding Malfoy. Not that he was making it particularly difficult for her, but still. They would run into each other in the hallways, once in a while. He was always shadowed by his bodyguards and she had Harry and Ron. Insults were thrown, like so many times before, but he had not once dared to call her a mudblood.

Then there were the classes they followed together, Charms, Potions and Ancient Runes. Hermione always sat at the front, while Draco often kept to the back seats. Sometimes she thought she could feel him looking at her, only, whenever she turned around his eyes were averted.

Hermione left lunch early to head to classroom 6A; she had a few questions to ask Professor Bathsheda Babbling so she'd be prepared for the upcoming Ancient Runes assignment. She entered the classroom, books clutched to her chest and looked for the Professor.

Draco saw her the same moment she noticed him sitting on his desk. They both froze, not knowing what to do. This was the very situation Hermione had been trying to avoid for weeks. She and Malfoy, together, in an otherwise abandoned space. So she turned around like she just realized she had forgotten her quill and was about to walk out when she heard him call her name.

"Hermione," he said. No 'Granger', no 'Little Miss Perfect' and there was none of his usual sneer. Just Hermione, said softly, like a friend would, maybe.

She turned around just in time to see him graciously hop off his desk.

"I thought we could … talk," he mumbled. While he moved closer Hermione noticed the dark circles underneath his eyes.

"You've got nothing to worry about, I didn't tell," she assured him, not knowing what else he could want from her.

"Not about... that. I mean, well, maybe it is about that. But not like you'd think it would be," he staggered, trying to convey his meaning without sounding like a complete idiot. Obviously it hadn't worked. He tried again.

"I just wanted to talk about -" They were cut short by the group of loudly talking students entering the room. "Never mind," he said quickly and shot away, leaving Hermione quite baffled in the middle of the aisle.

"Watch it!" A sneer and a push sure got Hermione's attention back to reality and she glared at the girl in question, Pansy Parkinson, who went to sit next to Draco and immediately started chatting, her voice way more pleasant than before. Hermione shook her head in disbelief and went to sit at her usual table, not noticing the sorrowful glance Draco shot in her direction.

At the end of the class she had received no less than two frogs and an origami bird.

 _I meant what I said_ , the first one read.

 _We should talk_ , the second suggested.

The third only read a simple ' _please_ ', and the bird had been given very said eyes.

Professor Babbling had already glanced disapprovingly in her direction twice so she didn't dare send an answer back to Draco. He'd have to be patient.

Turned out, not so surprising perhaps, that patience wasn't one of Draco's virtues. As she walked down the hallway she suddenly got pulled in what appeared to be the trophy room

"What in Merlin's name do you think you're doing?" she spat, immediately knowing who the culprit was.

"You didn't answer any of my messages," he said accusingly.

"I didn't want to lose any points."

"Do you really think that's important, right now?" They both glared at each other, and to Hermione this was way more comfortable than that awkward talk. She knew this side of Malfoy. He was being an ass and this justified her hatred for him.

"You said you wanted to talk, well... Out with it." She had grown rather curious over the past hour. What could be so important for him to send two frogs and a bird. Those things were a pain to fold.

"Not like this." He shook his head disappointedly and walked away. Once again leaving Hermione rather bewildered.

"Does Peeves sense troubles between these two love birds?" Hermione turned around. Peeves sat comfortably in one of the bigger Quidditch cups, a wicked grin spread across his face.

"Oh, fuck off," she told him, irritated. That turned out to be a mistake and she ducked just in time for the trophy that got hurled to her head.

That evening, after some careful consideration, she sent word to Malfoy, _09.45 pm, classroom 3C_. It was close to her broom closet, did she need a place to hide.

She sat in the Gryffindor common room nervously eyeing the hands of the clock.

"'Mione, are you alright? You seem a bit distracted," Ron remarked. Hermione, quite surprised he had noticed, nodded. Lavender was sitting next to him, very hard trying to regain his attention.

Hermione didn't mind Ron having a girlfriend, but that girl sure was needy. She would know, she had shared a room with her for the past six years. Lavender, Parvati and Hermione, the three Gryffindor girls had been sharing a room ever since they got here. Lavender had always been jealous of her friendship with Ron, and to her surprise it hadn't gotten any better since they'd started going out together. On the contrary, it seemed to be getting worse. She didn't like Hermione helping him, she didn't like Hermione sitting next to him. Everywhere she turned Lavender tried to stand between her and Ron. She had even tried to invite herself to the Burrow during the holidays, but Molly wouldn't hear anything of it. With the Order of the Phoenix dropping in and out she couldn't have a love struck teenage girl running about. Hermione was sure she had seen Ron sigh in relief.

Lavender and Ron, who were now on top of each other, seemed to have forgotten Hermione was still there.

"I'll leave you two to it, then," she packed her books and left for the stairs.

"Wait, where are you going?" Ron asked, a little desperate. Hermione didn't answer, he could handle his own girlfriend. She left without feeling any guilt. She had her own demons to face tonight.

In the mirror of her room she once again checked her appearance. Should she wear her uniform or informal clothing. Hair up or down. White trainers or brown boots. She eyed Lavender's make-up held in a basket next to the mirror. Her hand reached out to the mascara. She pulled back. Who was she kidding?

In the end she decided on normal clothing, nothing fancy. Malfoy was not someone she needed to dress up for. He was just Malfoy.

'Then why did you kiss him,' her mirror image whispered back to her.

"It was a mistake, he knows that," Hermione mumbled.

'Does he?'

Hermione turned away from her image and made her way downstairs. Did he?


	8. Chapter 8: Forgotten Encounter

Hermione had decided she would wait for Draco behind a statue of Julian the Third, something he would surely pass on his way to classroom 3C.

As it was so close to curfew the hallways were almost deserted. A Slytherin first-year ran past, muttering something vile about one of his fellow classmates. Hermione waited.

When she heard footsteps she sank back into the shadows, observing him as he walked past. He walked fast, focused on his destination. He seemed to have a flinch of nervousness about him. Nervous for what, exactly, she wondered.

Draco turned the corridor and Hermione followed, shoes held in her hand, making no noise.

The classroom door was ajar, Draco undoubtedly inside already. Hermione took a deep breath, asking herself, once again, why she was doing this. Apparently her actions concerning Malfoy were not often ones she could explain.

He turned around and looked at her, noticing her bright red socks and the pair of trainers she held in her hands. It was not hard to draw a conclusion.

"You've been following me." It wasn't as much a question as it was a statement. Not knowing how to respond to that, Hermione rubbed the top of her foot against the heel of the other. It drew Draco's attention.

"You can put them back on … if you're cold." Hermione noticed the drastic change in his voice, his statue and his attitude and couldn't help feeling uncomfortable.

"I'm not." She was.

"Oh." Hermione looked at him, questions tumbled in her mind.

She'd seen him crying that night, and she'd seen him nervous, just now he had seemed concerned. This side of him, that she did not recognize, why did he keep showing it to her. It made it very difficult for her to weapon herself against the faint smile he showed. He knew she was lying.

"What did you want to talk about," she quickly asked.

"Yes, ehh. It's complicated." He took a few steps towards her. Again she noticed the colour of his eyes. Even in the dim lit classroom they seemed to shine.

"Why- Why did you…" He hesitated, nervously combed a hand through is sleek hair and continued, "Why did you kiss me." Of all the things he could have asked he wanted to know the one thing to which she did not possess the answer.

"Mutual assured destruction, like I said." Was she mistaken or did she see a flash of disappointment cross his face.

"Is it really, though?" He had taken another step forwards, now only an arm's length away.

"Hermione." A gush of warmth spread through her body. Hearing him say her name like that made her feel things she would never have thought possible.

"These past few weeks have been hell for me. I can't stop thinking about you. Everywhere I go I am reminded of your smile, your brown hair, your lecturing voice. All I can think about is the feeling of your lips on mine, your body pressed against me. And I can't explain it, but it needs to stop. So I thought, if I just kissed you once more, I'd know."

Hermione was stunned, the fuses in her brain were close to blowing. 'Know what,' she had wanted to ask. But before she could regain her composure he had crossed the distance between them, lightly pressing his lips against hers.

A feeling of belonging rushed through her. She realised there was no other place she'd rather be than in his arms. Thus as Draco pulled back, she let go of her shoes and wrapped her arms around him, kissing him more passionately than ever before. And he kissed her back and for a moment the room faded around them, leaving nothing but two souls connected by ways more than desire.

When they separated at last, breathing fast and looking beyond each other's eyes Hermione asked, "And, do you know?" Because she knew. She knew that whatever Draco might have done before, she could love him for who he was now, standing before her.

And Draco knew as well, but he had found no peace in the knowledge. He moved away from her and nodded, sadness flooding his face.

"I know, and I'm sorry," he said, heartbroken. She felt the hurt in his voice and took a step backwards, stumped. Draco raised his want, pointing it at her face.

"Draco, what are you-" her words were cut off.

" _Obliviate_." He could not keep his voice steady, scared he would mess up her brilliant mind. He looked at her usually bright eyes, which now had a dull brown colour. This would have to do, he thought, and left the room in a hurry.

Hermione looked around, unsure about where she was. Her mind was racing, trying to connect the scattered pieces. She must've been waiting for Malfoy. With one look at the clock she concluded he hadn't shown. So much for his 'urgent' message.

Feeling rather dizzy she turned to the door and walked out, making her way up to the Gryffindor common room.

Draco followed her all the way to the Fat Lady's portrait, her white trainers in his hand and fighting the urge to jump out and catch her, every time she stumbled. Would she be okay, he asked himself as he left her shoes underneath the closed painting. The Fat Lady eyed him suspiciously. Ignoring her questions he turned and headed for the dungeons.

Back in his dormitory he sat down on his bed, head buried in his hands. He was disgusted by himself. Developing feelings for a mudblood made him a bloodtraitor. He was a Malfoy, loyal to the Dark Lord. He could not be a bloodtraitor.

But, without wanting to, he thought back to all the moments he had shared with Granger. The kiss, the way she had wrapped herself around him. That night they had spent hiding underneath the cloak.

Unconsciously he thought back to all the times he had caught himself staring at her just a moment too long and he realised that he had been in denial for longer than he cared to admit. And then he remembered the days he had been scared for her. That night, when the Death Eaters made their comeback during the Quidditch World Cup. He had been franticly searching for her bushy curls, scared his father had gotten to her. Luckily he had found her in the woods, though accompanied by Potter and Weasel, but at least she had been safe. And that time she had been petrified by the Basilisk, Slytherin's Monster. He would never tell, but he had visited her a few times, just to make sure she was still alive. He was the one who had put that piece of paper in her hand, hoping that someone would find it.

He had always noticed her, since the day he had first seen her on the train, looking for a toad with Longbottom in her wake. He would see her walking through the hallways, books clutched against her chest, following around Potter and Weasel, and a string of jealousy would flash through him. He had thought sneering at her would make him feel better, but no, it always left him feeling worse. Deep down he had been scared, scared for her to like him back, because that was a spark of hope he could not ignore. Once he would let that hope grow, he would be truly fucked. He was truly fucked.

"What's got your panties up in a twist," Nott asked cheerfully, entering their shared bedroom, followed by Blaise Zabini.

"Piss off."

Zabini who smelled an argument, ushered Theodore back to the common room, asking him for another game of Wizarding Chess.

"Nott is right, you know," Zabini told him before closing the door. "You have been very distracted ever since returning from holiday."

Draco shot up and cast a hex at the closed door, which reflected back and – Draco ducked just in time – hit the four poster bed behind him.

"Fuck!" he exclaimed and exited his room with angry strides.

"Where are you going?" Goyle asked, distracted from angrily eyeing his homework.

"Nowhere."

And technically he was right, the Room of Requirement was not a place, rather a hidden dimension, housing it's portal in the walls of Hogwarts.

A place to find something, a place to find something, he repeated in his head like a mantra. Magically a door appeared in the wall he was facing. After Draco had entered it took him a while to orientate himself. The Room changed ever so slightly each time he entered. Heaps of chairs would be moved, closets full of potion ingredients appeared, once, he had even seen a fully furnished corner, bed and kitchen, and all.

By the time he reached the Vanishing Cabinet he had lost the will to continue his work. This is going to take ages, he thought. Isn't there any other way to assassinate the headmaster? With that thought engraved in his mind he took to wandering between the piles of stuff, again. Until, eventually, Draco tripped, falling face forwards on the ground.

"Bloody hell!" he cried, feeling if his nose was still intact. He turned and glared back at the object he had tripped over.

"Seriously?" he asked no one in particular. He wronged Granger and the next thing he did was tripping over a friggin' book?

He picked it up, ready to hurl it straight to the other end of room, when he skimmed over the cover and read the title, _7 Most Deadliest Poisons_. Intrigued Draco started leaving through the book, a new idea surely popping into his head.


	9. Chapter 9: Liquid Dreams

Hermione wandered into the Gryffindor common room. It was past curfew and most of the Gryffindors were muttering in front of the fire or making homework. Ginny, apparently, was attempting to do both. Still feeling a little disoriented, Hermione walked over to greet her friend.

"Hey-" she said when Ginny looked up. Next to her sat Neville, looking very concentrated.

"Hey, 'Mione, something wrong?" Ginny asked.

"I don't… I don't know."

"Why aren't you wearing any shoes?" Hermione looked down. Only then she found out why the cold had been creeping up to her via her toes. A tear rolled down her face. Distracted she wiped it away. Ginny, sensing something was very wrong, stood up and took her friend to sit in one of the big armchairs in the corner.

"What's going on, Hermione? Tell me," Ginny suggested calmly, wiping another lost tear from her face. Hermione gazed into the nothingness, trying very hard to answer that question.

"I was walking … and I suddenly felt so lost and so sad and…" She did not know how to describe that third feeling. Lovesick was as close as she got, but that was absurd.

"It was like a dementor was hoovering next to me, but I know it couldn't have been because I could feel the warmth of the fire and dementors aren't invisible and Professor Dumbledore would never allow them on school grounds, they're all in Azkaban," she ranted on, knowing that she was right yet not fully convinced of it.

Once, dementors had been allowed on school grounds, and they had almost gotten to her, when she had lain next to Harry and Sirius at the riverbank. All the happiness had been sucked from her and she had known she had been about to face a fate worse than dead, she would have lived on, soulless, never able to experience any feeling at all.

"Hey, you're safe now," Ginny shushed and pulling a trembling Hermione in a hug. She knew of the nightmares and the horrible memories that sometimes just floated to the surface without warning. She knew because she, too, had once lain helpless while someone sucked the life energy out of her. It was not something she liked to be reminded of.

"Is she okay?" Neville asked uncertainly as he shuffled closer.

"She's fine, she just needs to sleep." Neville nodded, he wanted to help, but not knowing what to do he just stood there.

"Come on, Hermione, I'll bring you to bed." She helped Hermione up, who nodded, happy to have someone else take control for a change.

"Neville, if you could just get my stuff and put it in front of my room." Neville nodded and walked away, eager to be of assistance.

"I hope I didn't disturb anything," Hermione said as she walked up the girl's stairs.

"You didn't. Neville has just been helping me with my Herbology homework."

Parvati and Lavender were busy whispering. They fell quiet when the door opened and watched the two girls walk in. Hermione's face was just a tad to ashen.

The three girls didn't always see eye to eye, but they knew, most of the time, not to ask too many questions.

"What happened?"

"Are you okay?" They both fired at Hermione.

"She'll be fine, she just needs to rest," Ginny answered, for her. She left Hermione to change and headed over to the two girls.

"Hermione isn't feeling alright, so she's going to go to bed now. If you want to continue your conversation, please move downstairs." Even though she did not particularly like her brother's girlfriend, it was good to know she was a decent person. Hermione's roommates both left the room without protest. Ginny followed them out, but went to her own room instead, where she changed into her nightgown before heading back to Hermione. She was already in bed, and Ginny quietly slid in next to her. Listening to the wind that howled around the Gryffindor tower, they fell asleep.

Hermione was startled awake. It was still dark outside and the clock on the wall told her it was a little past four thirty. Ginny, still sound asleep, had claimed most of the covers. After a while Hermione decided to head downstairs. She didn't want to wake her friend with her turning and tossing.

The fire was extinguished, but the glowing embers still emitted a comfortable warmth. She walked towards the window, unable to see anything through the absolute darkness. Instead, she stared at the raindrops that clung against the glass.

It was not unlike her to have the occasional nightmare. She was usually able to cast them aside, though, not this time. Trying to remember what it had been about, she closed her eyes. Nothing. She realised there must be something else bothering her as well. Something much like a dream, something that slipped through your fingers like water the more she thought about it. And again she got hit by that unexplainable feeling of loss.

At six she moved back to bed, hoping to act like nothing had happened.

The fire crackled in the nearly deserted Prefect's common room. It was already after 'normal' curfew and Hermione had just returned from patrolling the hallways. Twenty more minutes till her own curfew. She sat on the couch, her homework laying on the table, untouched.

These past two days had been the worst. She had forgotten the password, her homework, her books, she had even stepped on the trick step on one of the staircases leading to the third floor, nearly losing her trainers again (someone had found them, standing in front of the portrait, strange). It was almost like she had turned into a second Neville.

Today, during lunch, she had turned to the library, trying to find the answers to her sudden forgetfulness. There were some magical illnesses that would explain her symptoms, but none of them made any sense. She hadn't been in touch with any dementors lately, and she was pretty sure she hadn't been bitten by a vampire. A mental illness made sense, but she couldn't quite owl her parents asking for books on that particular subject, they would worry too much.

Maybe she'd just been under too much stress, already preparing for her N.E.W.T.'s. Should she ask Madam Pomfrey for a check-up? But what would she tell her; I'm just not feeling myself, recently? That sounded a bit vague, didn't it.

Hermione tried thinking back, once again, to that night she had lost her trainers. She couldn't, it was like something was blocking her out. She knew she had been waiting for Malfoy, but she couldn't remember actually doing so. Why had he not showed? What had he wanted to talk about? Nothing made sense any more.

She had barely seen him, these past days. He hadn't shown up in any of their joint classes, and every time they'd crossed in the hallways she had felt he had been avoiding her gaze. She had seen him at the Slytherin table, but he had looked quite miserable himself, even more so than she felt.

The sound of the opening brick wall startled Hermione from her thoughts. Curiously, Hermione looked up and waited for the person to enter. It could be Ernie, but he had told her he would go straight to bed after he had finished patrolling. Maybe he had forgotten something.

What she did not expect, however, was for a certain Slytherin to walk through the entrance.

"Malfoy?" she exclaimed in surprise. Draco stopped dead in his tracks, clearly not thinking anyone to be here, at this hour.

"What are you doing here?" She stood up and walked towards him. "I thought you stopped being a prefect?"

"Yes, ehm, yes, I did. It's just that..." he fell silent. She now stood in front of him, crossing her arms and raising her eyebrows questioningly. If he had indeed stopped being a Prefect he had no business here, whatsoever.

"I forgot something!"

"You forgot something?" she repeated, obviously doubting his answer. "You know, you could've asked Pansy to get it for you. I'm sure she-" She fell silent. The opening in the wall was growing smaller and Draco had stepped closer. Hermione felt herself unable to take a step back, her feet fixed on the ground.

He was close, too close. Not as close as he had been. Her trainers fell to the floor, but she was still wearing them. Her arms around his neck, but she had them crossed in front of her. They were apart. He raised his wand, but he had not moved.

'I'm sorry, Hermione,' he said, pain apparent on his face. He did not look hurt, he looked concerned, worried.

"Hermione, are you okay?" She barely heard him, only just noting the movement of his mouth. Was she? Confusion.

'Obliviate!' A flash, followed by ignorance. Nothing. She fell, welcoming the darkness and the warmth that enfolded around her.


	10. Chapter 10: Sleeping Beauty

Draco crept through the hallways. It was after curfew but he had dug up his Prefect's badge, might anyone raise questions. Pansy had given him the new password to the Prefect's common room when he had asked, she had looked rather curious, but hadn't commented. Not that he would have known what to tell her. 'The Dark Lord wants me to retrieve a cup, that once belonged to the Hogwarts Founder Helga Hufflepuff, because, apparently, he has hidden part of his soul in it and now, for security reasons, it will have to be moved to Gringotts,' was not something he fully understood, either. Draco shook his head and continued his way to the Prefect's common room. It was not his place to question the Dark Lord's plans, anyway.

"Bizzlebeetle," he muttered to the wall, behind which the common room lay. The bricks started to move sideways, making an opening big enough for him to pass though.

"Malfoy?" The hairs on his back rose upon hearing the questioning voice which he recognized, immediately. Granger. He hadn't seen her since… A lump formed in his throat.

He had only achieved that by actively avoiding her, skipping classes was not something he lay awake from, but he had known he would have to face her, eventually. He just hadn't thought it would be so soon.

He watched her walk over to him. Was she doing okay? Did she remember anything? Those questions had plagued him ever since he had left her shoes underneath the Fat Lady's portrait. He knew a badly cast obliviation charm could have nasty side effects, nightmares, forgetfulness, and even depression.

Why was she looking at him like that, expectantly. Right! What was he doing here. He stuttered, thinking of a quick lie wasn't as easy when he could feel her eyes piercing through his soul.

"You forgot something?" she repeated, her arms folded in front of her, still staring at him. Of course he couldn't fool her.

She continued to talk, but he heard the bricks moving behind him and moved out of the way, consequently stepping forwards.

Hermione went pale, she wasn't looking at him like she had before, but rather like she saw something that couldn't have been. She looked stunned.

"Hermione," he called, "Hermione, are you okay?" He waved a hand in front of her eyes, no response, she didn't blink, nothing. Uncertain he put his hands on her shoulder, ready to shake her out of it. It was as if he had touched her off button, her lights went out, her body went limp. He was just in time to pull her towards him, catching her against his chest.

"Hermione?" he grunted, trying to heave her full weight over to the couch. Her head lolled from left to right, and he was scared it might fall off. He stopped, this wasn't going to work. He lowered to the ground, softly laying her on the wooden floor. Taking off his cardigan he placed it underneath her head.

"Hermione, wake up," he begged, wiping the strands of brown curls from her face. He was starting to feel anxious. He had seen her sleep before, but this was nothing like it. She'd seem peaceful, relaxed. Now her face showed no emotion at all, empty, like that time she had been petrified. He checked if she was breathing, just to be sure.

Placing a hand on her cheek a mad idea suddenly popped into his head. His mother had once read him a story of a princess, cursed to sleep for over a hundred years, only to be kissed awake by wizard, who had passed all the magical barriers surrounding her castle and they had lived happily ever after.

Draco scoffed, that was absurd. Still, he couldn't help staring at her, slightly parted, lips. Before he knew it he bent over, brushing his lips against hers.

After withdrawing he watched, expectantly. Two seconds, ten seconds, nothing happened. What had he even thought would happen? He was such a fool.

It was nearly curfew, there was no way he was going to retrieve that cup tonight. He looked back at Hermione, still motionless. He could already imagine the fuss Potter and Weasel were going to make if they learned he had brought her to the Hospital Wing, but he couldn't leave her, either.

Just when he was about to turn around, she stirred. For a moment she drowsily batted her eyelids, before she shot upright. She turned to him, like a Veela her face turned drastically in a show of immense anger..

"You obliviated me?" she screeched, groping for her wand as she jumped up. "You dare interfere with my schoolwork?" Standing up as well he hastened backwards, but her wand was already at his throat and his back bumped into the stone wall. He flinched.

"Do you know what I've been through?" He took that as a rhetorical question. "It was like turning into a second Neville, without the amazing gift for Herbology," she spat.

"I'm sorry," he whimpered, it sounded more hesitant than he had liked. He wished he were able to dematerialise and fade into the wall, like the Red Baron often did.

"Put it back!" she demanded.

"What?"

"You can't mess with someone's mind like that, you need to fix it. Put it back."

"I can't," he whispered, after a short silence.

"Of course you can, you're practically the only one who could."

"That's not what I mean," he confessed, avoiding her gaze, "I can't let you remember, 'cause if you did-" His sentence was cut short by the sounding of the bells, it was 12 o'clock, Prefect's curfew.

"Shit," Hermione exclaimed, checking the time on her wristwatch. Malfoy sighed in relief, saved by the bell, literally.

"We should both go back to our common rooms. Filch always checks here first, you know that. We can talk tomorrow," he quickly optioned. Hermione seemed lost in contemplation, so he tried to move her wand from his neck, that was going to leave a nasty bruise.

"Don't you dare, Malfoy," she hissed, pressing her wand even harder into his skin, while searching his robes with her other hand.

"You're coming with me." She clutched his wand between her fingers and pulled him over to the table. She dumped a stack of books in his arms and together they exited through the opening in the wall.

This was it, she was going to tell Professor Dumbledore. But he didn't struggle, didn't oppose. There were a number of things he could have done to postpone his execution, but he had always known that the truth would come out, eventually, and to his surprise he felt relieved. He no longer would have to act like what was expected of him. His father would renounce him, the Dark Lord would reject him. He would pay for his crimes and maybe, maybe, then he could start working towards forgiveness.

He watched Hermione's back, curls jumping up and down as they crept through the hallways, occasionally looking back to see if he was still behind her. Could they have a life together? If everything had been different, perhaps. But not like this. A feeling of deep sadness crept over him as he realised that he would never be good enough for her.


	11. Chapter 11: Empty Memories

Hermione crept through the deserted corridors, Draco closely following behind her. At every corner she stopped to check for Filch and Mrs Norris. If she had known she was going to sneak through the castle after curfew she'd have taken the Marauder's map with her.

When they reached her broom cupboard she let go of the breath she'd been holding for so long and motioned for Malfoy to enter.

"What-" he said, a nervous glimmer in his eyes.

"Just do as I say, Malfoy," she hissed, a little tense. She could have sworn she had heard footsteps. Reluctantly, Draco entered. Hermione quickly followed him inside. It was a bit crammed and she heard some mops fall over behind Draco. With the stack of books he was holding pressing in her back, she closed the door.

"What are we-" Draco tried again but was silenced by a loud "Sh!"

Hermione knocked on the door seven times in a specific rhythm after which a little silver keyhole appeared. The key she wore on her necklace fitted perfectly inside and she turned it anti-clockwise. After hearing the 'click' of the lock she opened the door. They were no longer facing the dark corridor.

A small fire crackled in the fireplace, illuminating the room just enough to see shapes and shadows. Hermione waved her wand and the strategically placed candles lit up the room.

Draco gasped behind her and she smiled inwardly. He was the first person she had let in here, and his reaction was satisfactory.

She entered the room, which had now been decorated with a table, couch and well-filled bookcase, and turned around. She watched Malfoy slowly step inside, placing her stack of books on the table.

"What is this place?" he asked.

"I made it," she said and locked the door behind him, she didn't want Filch to wander through the broom closet and into her room by accident.

"You made this?" He sounded impressed. Hermione felt pleased with herself. She'd been wanting to show off her work ever since she finished, but keeping it a secret felt good as well. And somehow having Draco sound impressed made the feeling even sweeter. Malfoy, who had always sneered at her achievements, now stood gaping at her, speechless. Harry and Ron, on the other hand, would know what she was capable of, by now.

Her satisfaction quickly disappeared when she was reminded of what she had brought him here for.

"So, now we can talk," she said. Draco nodded, slowly, once again avoiding her gaze.

"I need you to reinstate those memories. You know, as well as I, that it is best done by the same wand who took them."

"And ... what if I don't?" he asked, hesitant.

"You'd never get out of here. We'd starve," she said, the corner of her lip curling up. She now had him at a disadvantage. The inside of the door was enchanted, as well as the outside, she'd created a loop which brought you from her room to the broom cupboard and back to the room again, never reaching the Hogwarts corridors. Unless, of course, you knew how to unlock the door.

He looked at her, trying to judge whether she was being serious.

"You would never miss class," he tried, but he did not seem confident, at all.

"Going to classes like this isn't worth it."

"But you don't understand, Hermione. I can't put it back," he pleaded. She noticed the dark circles underneath his eyes and the desperate look on his face. Draco had always looked a little unhealthy to her, like he wasn't getting enough vitamin D. Now his cheeks were hollow and his eyes had lost their sparkles.

A rush of anxiety flushed over her as she realised he looked exactly like he had done that day on the Clock Tower all those weeks ago, guilty.

"What did you do to me, Draco?" she asked, warily. During the silence he gave her several scenarios played through her head, one worse than the next.

"I kissed you," he muttered under his breath. Relief rushed over her, followed by disbelief, which soon turned to anger.

"You messed with my mind because you kissed me?" she yelled. Draco cowered underneath her blazing gaze and moved a little backwards, she took no notice of it.

"I didn't drive you to act like a forgetful idiot just because I felt like kissing you!"

"I- I'm sorry," he stuttered. Hermione's chest was heaving, she did not know what else to say, instead continued to glare at him. Draco sighed in defeat and motioned for his wand, "Give it to me. I'll do it."

A strange feeling of excitement fluttered in her stomach as she handed him his wand, he had kissed her. How would it feel to be kissed by him? She had been asking herself that question for the better part of three weeks. She had dreamed about it, waking up blushing and glad she did not talk in her sleep. Lavender and Parvati would never let gossip like this go quietly, once they knew.

He raised his wand to her face and she closed her eyes, not seeing the look of immense gloom showing on Draco's face.

" _Reinstatio Remembrum_."

For a moment everything around her withdrew. Leaving her alone, consumed by the immense void that surrounded her. She was no one, nothing mattered. Inhale. Exhale.

The silence grew louder, a throbbing in her body she had never felt before. Something was announcing its return. She grasped her chest and curled up on the floor, trying to protect herself against the force of the incoming tide.

Somewhere in her mind a barrier broke and, together with the rest of her reality, everything came flooding back to her, around her, through her. It was choking her, her lungs filled with facts. She grasped for breath but the serenity of oblivion was no longer there. Inhale. Exhale.

A scene played out in front of her. He kissed her, she kissed him. She felt detached, she could not feel the warmth of his body or the security of his embrace. She had been given nothing but data.

"Are you okay?" she heard a voice asking in the distance. He was still here. Decades had passed, time had become irrelevant to her, yet here he was. Opening her eyes she found she had not moved at all, and while she had felt timeless mere seconds had passed.

She looked at him, trying to see him like she had, before he had wiped her memories. His grey orbs, platinum blonde hair, dark circles underneath his eyes, they had all formed into a display of uncertainty. She moved her eyes to his lips, trying to remember what they had felt like, locked on hers. She did not know, he had taken that away from her.

Entranced she stepped forwards, placing her hands against his chest. Like always she felt the need to fill the emptiness with knowledge. She needed to know what it felt like, and there was no other way to go about it than to kiss him again.

She did not regard the look of surprise on his face nor did she think anything of his fastening heartbeat which she felt underneath her fingertips.

Warmth flushed through her and she felt like she had only just completely arrived in the physical world again. He touched the core of her being, like no one had before. And when he kissed her back, she knew he felt the same. All the previous hesitation dissolved.

He tugged at her shirt and she started unfastening the buttons of his, exposing his bare chest. Blindly they stumbled towards the couch. Draco fell backwards, pulling her on top of him. When she wanted to push his blouse off his shoulders he stopped her. "Leave it," he said, his voice hoarse. Hermione shrugged, it did not matter.

After a while neither knew where their own body started and the other began. They had surpassed physical confinement, meeting on a higher level. For a moment they became one entity, one soul.

After bodily limitation returned they lay on the couch entangled in an embrace, neither yet wanting to let go of the other.

Every breath she took, inspired by his smile. Every morning she would wake up, encouraged by the sparkles in his eyes. With him there was no questioning their happiness. When she thought of their future she saw only possibilities. Like a bulb - when nurtured carefully - their love could grow out to be a beautiful flower.

With his fingers he drew circles on her arm and she moved her head to look at him. She was quite certain he felt the same. But whether he was ready to acknowledge that feeling, she did not know.

Saturday morning arrived sooner than desired. The fresh daylight delivering Draco's doubt. Silence surrounded them as they dressed, yesterday's certainty washed away.

"Granger-" She flinched at the unfamiliarity with which he called her name, but did not show it. It was nothing like the way he had called her name mere hours ago. Yet, that seemed so distant in the past. There was no use in forcing her feelings on him. He needed time, so that's what she gave him.

He did not know what to say, with the absence of her warmth realisation had hit him. He had done the very thing he had promised himself not to, feed the hope, knowing that once provoked it would be very hard to extinguish.

"This can't happen again," he told her. She did not answer. "Don't you understand? You're a mudblood!" he exclaimed, exasperated. He touched his left underarm, the Dark Mark was still covered up but he could not help it.

"You'll be late for breakfast," she stated, standing next to the open door. Avoiding her eyes he walked into the broom cupboard. The door closed behind him and he stood in the dark feeling miserable. When he opened the door part of him wished he had returned to her room; to apologise, to return to the refuge of her heart, to tell her he loved her. But he could not.

How long could he keep on denying his feelings for her? Every breath he took without her pained him. Seeing her walk around, laughing at someone else's jokes, lightened a fire of jealousy inside of him. But having to leave her like this, fully aware of the hurt he brought her, the promises he had broken, made him want to kill himself. He knew he did not deserve her soft smiles, her kind words, her comforting embrace, but he had found he could not live without. He was like a monster trying to preserve a delicate bird, yet crushing it in the process.

Being without her killed him, being with her would eventually kill them both.

Did he love her enough to set her free?


	12. Chapter 12: Revelations

It took Hermione a while to get herself together, but she had an apparition class in two hours and couldn't afford to miss a lesson. Flying was not for her and she didn't particularly enjoy travelling by floo powder. So she plastered a smile on her face and headed down to the Gryffindor Tower.

The common room was not yet filled with students, most of them sleeping in on a Saturday. In her room she found Parvati and Lavender huddled together busy whispering. Hermione, not feeling like explaining her absence, ignored their apparent stares.

"Go ask her."

"No, you ask her. He's your boyfriend." Hermione heard them say as she got ready to take a shower. Lavender shot up and blocked the way to the door.

"What do you want," she sneered, tired of her classmates constant interfering. Lavender flinched at the tone of her voice but didn't back off.

"What did you get my Won-Won for his birthday?" she asked, nodding towards the gift wrapped package that had been sitting on Hermione's nightstand. She smiled maliciously.

"If you want to know so bad, maybe you should just open it," she told her and walked past her to the bathroom.

"Don't do it, Lav, she's jinxed it," Parvati exclaimed in a panic. She had not, but ever since the ending of the DA they had become very careful about touching her stuff, scared off ending up like Marietta.

The shower did Hermione good, enabling her to let her mind range freely without thinking to much about Draco. She would wait for him, wait till he was ready to come to her. It could take months, years, but they were young, their whole lives laying ahead of them.

After drying her hair with an effective new charm that left it somewhat straight she went and knocked on the door frame of the boy's dormitory.

"Goodmorning," she said a little more cheerfully than she felt.

"Can you not?" screeched Ron as he scrambled to get the covers up to his chin, a blush creeping up his face. She let out a laugh and threw him his present. "Happy birthday, Ron."

Ron let out a muffled 'thanks', his face stuffed with chocolate cauldrons, while Harry was busy eyeing the Marauders map, something he had taken a habit to lately. Neville eyed her nervously and she sensed he was trying to get dressed.

"I'll see you guys at breakfast."

She did not, however, see them at breakfast, nor did she see them waiting for their apparition class in front of the great hall. Hermione grew increasingly worried as the group entered and the hoops appeared in front of them.

"Now, think of the three D's," their instructor's voice rang through the hall. Hermione decided to let go of all of her worries, determined to get it right this time. She did not even notice Malfoy, who stood a few rows behind her, trying to burn holes in her back with his eyes.

Hermione let out a wail of anguish. Next to the feeling of being compressed by a great force a searing pain shot through her body. Looking down she found she was standing in the hoop, a wide smile spread across her face. She had done it! She had apparated. Only when she turned around to search for the instructor did she discover the three great slashes across her belly through which her intestines were trying to escape. She let out a surprised 'oh' staggered and fell to the ground.

Moments later she woke to find Professor Snape standing over her and felt a cold tingling sensation spread across her stomach.

"Well done, Miss Granger," applauded the instructor as he fought his way through the crowd surrounding her.

"Though this may seem like a fail, I've never seen anyone apparate this much of themselves after only four sessions," the man said, positively beaming. Professor McGonagall gave her what seemed to be an encouraging look before ushering back the students to their assigned hoops. Snape gave a snort and a scowl, he usually saved those for when she put up her hand in his class. Only Draco was left standing in front of her, his face emotionless.

'I'm fine,' she mouthed and gave him a small smile at which he turned around and stalked away. Hermione sighed, this was how it was going to be then.

She was unable to apparate again, but Twycross did not seem surprised and ensured her that it was normal to be drained after such a first try.

Hermione had not noticed the commotion that occurred at the end of the hour, focussing vividly on the centre of her hoop, drowning out all other noise. Only when everyone started chatting loudly did she look up.

"What happened?" She turned to Neville, who was standing next to her.

"Don't know," he shrugged, "Professor Slughorn ran in in a panic asking for Professor McGonagall to come with him straight away." Hermione looked up just in time to see the green ends of McGonagall's robes disappear between the great doors.

With no one able to concentrate and one Head of House short Twycross decided to let them go early. Hermione followed the rest of the Gryffindors up to the Tower, listening to their wild speculations and theories. But before Seamus could give the password the portrait of the Fat Lady opened and Ginny came sprinting out of it. She stopped briefly in front of Hermione, ignoring Dean's question about whether she was okay and started pulling her with her.

"What is wrong?" Hermione asked as they were running down the corridors.

"It's Ron, he's been poisoned, McGonagall just told me," she said, panting. They stopped in front of the oak doors, that let to the hospital wing, almost colliding with Harry, who had been pacing in front of them.

"What happened," Ginny asked him pressingly. After a moment of silence Harry started telling the story. Hermione could hear this was not his first time repeating it, he seemed a little worn out.

They had been in their dormitory, just after Hermione had left it became apparent that Ron had swallowed Romilda Vane's love potion. Harry had taken him to Professor Slughorn who had swiftly cooked up an antidote. After which they had poured a bottle of mead and how Ron had fallen to the ground after drinking it, foaming at his mouth. It had only stopped when Harry had forced a bezoar down his throat. Professor Slughorn had called for Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall and Ron had been moved to the Hospital Wing. Harry had waited there ever since, not allowed to enter.

Hermione's mind was racing, hile Harry and Ginny started a heated discussion about who had wanted to poison Professor Slughorn, she could only think of one person. Though Harry must be thinking the same thing he had no proof to substantiate his argument. Hermione, however, had found him on top of the Clock Tower where he had all but confessed that he had given that necklace to Katie. She had long since figured out that Draco had been trying to kill their headmaster, but since she had been actively trying to push that thought out of her mind and Dumbledore was still the greatest wizard of his time she had not felt the need to tell him, she had been sure Harry had already enlightened Dumbledore with his theories. But that wasn't the worst of it. She had put her trust in Malfoy, believed he had changed and now her best friend lay in a hospital bed on the brink of death. No, this couldn't go on any longer. Hermione turned and walked away, answering Harry's question with a faint 'library'.

There was no need for the Marauders map, she ran in on Draco skulking only three corridors away. For a split second his eyes lit up at the sight of her, before she had roughly pushed him against the wall with a charm.

"Hermione, I-" he tried, but she was not having it.

"I can't believe you did this!" she yelled waving her wand dangerously at his face.

"It wasn't me," he said, unconvincing, trying to break free of the wall.

"And neither was that necklace, was it," she shot back sarcastically. "I saw you in that pub, Draco Malfoy, and you definitely weren't hiding any Easter eggs underneath your jacket."

"They told me to. I didn't mean for anyone to get hurt," he said sounding suddenly defeated. He had given up fighting against the invisible force pressing him against the wall and stared at the floor.

"They?" The question was left hanging in the air for Hermione to connect the dots.

"Harry was right," she muttered to herself. She looked up at Draco, eyes filled with horror.

"You're one of them, aren't you?" Her voice filled with disbelief, as if there was still a chance he wasn't. Draco didn't answer. Instinctively he tried hiding his arm behind his back. Hermione, noticing the movement, caught hold of his arm and pulled it towards her. She pointed at his underarm with the tip of her wand and whispered, " _Revelio_ ". A glowing green light started pulsating underneath his sleeve burning a hole through the three layers of fabric he was wearing. His mark was showing, jet black ink on his pale white skin. He stared at it unwillingly, the snake moving ever so slightly, scared of looking up and seeing the revolted look on her face. Hermione couldn't say anything for a long time either, lost inside her own head, her fingers digging into Malfoys wrist.

"I'm sorry I couldn't help you," she said softly, letting go of his arm. It fell back to his side lifelessly. She gave him one sad look before turning and walking away.

She knew she could not continue to deny the fact that Malfoy was a Death Eater, though she had known all along. Next to Harry's wild theories, which he voiced every other day, and the many clues she had ignored, there was the fact that she knew he had given that necklace to Katie.

She herself had aided him by not turning him in, but falling for him instead. One could argument she was just as guilty as him for not going to Dumbledore, she should have known better. And if it hadn't been for Harry's quick thinking she would now have been walking here with blood on her hands. Her judgement would no longer be clouded by the blissful sensation of love. Malfoy had picked his side, she had picked hers.

"Toffee eclairs," she said impatiently to the gargoyle who immediately leaped aside. The swirling staircase took her up and she knocked on the door.

"Come on in, miss Granger," Dumbledore spoke. She opened the door and was immediately absorbed by the sight of the many bookcases that reached the ceiling. How many books would he have here that she would not find in the library, she wondered.

"Mr. Weasly is doing fine, I'm told he will make a full recovery." Her attention snapped back to the old wizard sitting behind his desk studying her over the brim of his half-moon spectacles.

"I'm sorry to intrude, sir, but I need to tell you something." Dumbledore motioned for her to sit down. "I know who's been trying to kill you, sir. The necklace and the mead, Malfoy was behind it all. He's a Death Eater, I saw his mark." She couldn't bear saying his name, yet somewhere found the strength. When she looked up at Dumbledore he didn't seem the least bit surprised.

"I've known, for a while now, of Mr. Malfoy's attempts to assassinate me. As you might agree they were somewhat below his intellectual ability." Hermione didn't know what to say. "Mr. Malfoy has been brought into a difficult situation. If he fails to complete his mission he and his family will suffer and ultimately die."

"Can't you help him, sir?" she pleaded.

"He is save as long as he remains at Hogwarts plotting to kill me. Serverus and I have been working on a plan to keep him save during the summer after which he can return to Hogwarts. I rather hoped in due time you might help convince him."

"But this is eating him alive," she exclaimed, unsatisfied with the headmaster's solution.

"It is for his own safety he remains oblivious to the fact that we know of his mission. Voldemort will not be fooled," Dumbledore pressed upon Hermione.

A conflict sparked within her. To not tell him meant his soul was slowly rotting away, to tell him meant he would surely die. Why couldn't she just be thankful that Dumbledore would not let him be turned into a murderer and was looking out for his safety. But what of his well-being?

"It is of grave importance you do no not tell him, can you do that, miss Granger?" Hermione looked up, startled, and looked into the wizard's wise eyes once more, eventually she nodded.

"Good, you may visit mr. Weasley now," he said kindly.

In a daze Hermione stood up and exited the office. Had she made the right choice?


	13. Chapter 13: Sectumsempra

The following weeks passed Hermione in a daze. She couldn't stop thinking about Draco, yet was determined to keep the secret. They had not spoken after the 'incident', and there hadn't been any other assassination attempts, so she hoped he had ceased his quest. Sometimes she caught him staring at her, this puzzled look on his face, though it had only been two or three times. She had made a point of not sitting down facing the Slytherin table. Watching him only made her heart ache worse.

She sought her distractions in the library – she had finally found a real clue as to who the Half-Blood Prince might be – and her friends, which was always to great displeasure of Lavender. Though yesterday she and Ron had split up when she had seen the two of them exit the boys dormitory, unbeknownst to her Harry had been there as well, hidden beneath the invisibility cloak, but Ron hadn't thought to correct her. Lavender and Parvati hadn't stopped giving her these venomous looks since and Hermione wondered if it would stay by looks alone.

There was was the incident with Dobby and Kreacher who Harry had set on trailing Draco. Apparently Draco had been entering the Room of Requirement rather frequently. She couldn't stay angry with Harry long because she knew Harry was right, but she couldn't bear listening to his constant speculations. He had taken to patrolling in front of the Room of Requirement wearing his invisibility cloak, but to no avail.

What wasn't going smoothly either was her search for information on Horcuxes. She had gotten a permission note from Professor - to search the restricted section, but nothing … just nothing.

That morning during charms Harry gave them a full account of what had happened last night after he had taken the Felix Felicis. She shot him a disapproving look when he mumbled 'muffliato' and waved his wand to the people around him, she despised the fact he was still using the Half-Blood Prince's potions book. Harry told them about Aragog's funeral and his encounter with Professor Slughorn. He had gotten the memory from him and brought it to Professor Dumbledore, after which they had viewed the memory together. She gasped when Harry told her about the Horcruxes, anxious to run to the library as soon as possible.

"Wow," Ron said, when Harry had finished telling his story; he was waving is wand vaguely at the ceiling without paying attention to what he was doing. "Wow… You're actually going to go with Dumbledore … and try and destroy… wow."

"Ron, you're making it snow," Hermione said and patiently grasped his wrist, pulling his wand away from the ceiling. She hastily let go when she noticed Lavender's red rimmed eyes glare at her from a neighbouring table.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry." Hermione started vigorously brushing the snow of her own shoulders when Ron made an attempt to do so for her. She nodded meaningfully in Lavender's direction and he seemed to get the hint too late, the poor girl had already burst into tears. Ron looked immensely guilty and turned his back to her. In a whispering voice he proceeded to tell Harry – who had been following it with questioning eyes - about their breakup.

After Charms they walked back to the common room together. Hermione instantly noticed the small group of seventh-years clustered together and when a rather bulky boy moved was she able to discover the focus of the attention.

"Katie! You're back! Are you OK?" she cried and moved towards her. It took the boys a little more time before picking up the clues but when they did they promptly started talking about Quidditch with her. The match against Ravenclaw was in a few weeks and they needed to win by three hundred points to get an actual advantage. Only after the group dispersed did Harry move a little closer to Katie and dropped his voice to a low whisper. Hermione, who immediately knew what he was up to, froze and listened closely.

"… that necklace, can you remember who gave it to you, now?" he asked.

"No," said Katie apologetically. "Everyone's been asking me, but I haven't got a clue. The last thing I remember was walking into the ladies at the Three Broomsticks." Even though she knew it was wrong Hermione let out a sigh of relief.

"You deffinitely walked into the bathroom then?" Hermione asked, just to be sure. She hadn't seen Draco enter the bathroom, how had he gotten that necklace to her?

Katie nodded and excused herself to go to class, she said she wouldn't put it past Mcgonagall to give her lines even though it was her first day back.

Both lost in their own thoughts Harry and Hermione walked over to the window table at which Ron had sat down already.

"So it must have been a girl or a woman who gave Katie the necklace," she said, "to have been in the ladies, I mean."She knew she was grasping at straws here, but Dumbledore had explicitly told her not to tell Harry and Ron about Draco. She hated keeping secrets from her best friends, yet lately they seemed to pile up, somehow.

Harry was already attempting to discredit her argument by reminding them of the stolen Polyjuice potion. Though she wasn't really paying attention and retrieved the _Spellman's Syllabary_ from her bag.  
"And don't go wasting Felix," she warned him before diving into her homework, "luck can only get you so far."

It was a few days before the match Gryffindor – Ravenclaw, meaning the whole school was buzzing with excitement and Filch had his hands full chasing down students hexing others. Hermione had just returned from Professor Vector - who had assured her that the mistake she had made was so tiny it would have no actual influence on her overall grade - and was now looking for Ron. Nervous as he got before big games she had promised to walk to dinner together.

"Hey Luna," she turned to the girl who passed her in the hallway, "Have you seen-"

"Oh, yes, he just entered the boys bathroom. Goodbye Hermione," she said and darted off. Was Hermione going crazy or did Luna look a little more dreamily than normal? And what was going on with those radishes in her ears? Shaking her head Hermione walked towards the boys bathroom, she rather hoped Ron wasn't retching his organs out again, the poor boy. Without much thought she pushed open the door, she wanted to call his name but the sound stuck in her throat. She was just in time to duck for the curse flying her way.

Between all the screaming and the lights and the water spewing form several faucets she couldn't help but be reminded of that very unfortunate encounter with that troll in first year. Her first instinct was to duck and crawl away into safety, but she knew from experience that didn't always work out well.

"Hermione, watch out!" She saw Harry standing across of the room, his lips moving but she got his meaning too late. The lights had stopped shooting and a second later Myrtle stopped screaming. Only the water remained shooting every way, her clothing already soaked. When she tried to take a step backwards she bumped into someone. Her back against his chest, his arm loosely draped around her neck and his wand still pointed at Harry. "Draco," she whispered. Oh, how she had longed to be with him, every night she had missed him, and now…

Now Harry was starring at her, his eyes wide in concern for her. "Let her go, Malfoy," he spat, his wand at the ready and his body tense, like a cat ready to jump.

"It's okay Harry, he won't hurt me," she tried to tell him, but it was as if her words flew past him. His eyes were now locked with Malfoy's, ready to continue their fight. And when she tugged Draco's arm she found he too was lost in the spirit of battle.

Myrtle started to scream, again, scaring everyone into action. Draco pushed Hermione aside and shot another curse at Harry. Harry managed to block it just in time but slipped on the wet floor.

"Cruci-"

"SECTUMSEMPRA," Harry bellowed from the floor, wildly waving his wand.

Blood spurted from Draco's face and chest, as if he had been cut by an invisible sword. He staggered backwards and collapsed onto the waterlogged floor with a great splash, his wand falling from his limp right hand.

Hermione watched it all happen in front of her. Slipping and staggering she plunged down next to Draco, whose face was now shinning scarlet, his white hands scrabbling at his blood soaked chest.

"No-" she heard Harry gasp.

"Get a teacher," she cried, taking Draco's face into her hands. He looked at her with panic in his eyes, pleading for the pain to stop.

"No- I didn't..." Harry stumbled towards the door, his back against the wall. She had no time to deal with him now, nor with Myrtle who was screaming murder.

"Draco, Draco, look at me," she wiped the bloody strands of hair from his face. "It's going to be okay, I promise," she said, her voice broke and tears were streaking down her face.

Roughly she got pushed aside by Snape, who knelt next to Malfoy and started tracing his wand over the deep wounds Harry's curse had made while muttering incantations. She barely noticed Harry as she followed Draco, who was leaning heavily on Snape, to the hospital wing, his wand in her hands. Only when Snape stopped and said in a voice of cold fury, "And you, Potter… you wait here for me," did she look into Harry's miserable and guilt stricken face. But for once she could not pick his side.

After quickly explaining Madam Pomfrey what had happened did Snape leave the hospital wing to deal with Harry. Hermione stood forgotten in a corner while Madam Pomfrey applied essence of Dittany to all the pink lines crossing Malfoy's face and chest.

"Hey," his hoarse voice woke her from her thoughts and she stealthily approached his bed. Madam Pomfrey had disappeared back into her office.

"Hey," she managed a small smile in return. Not knowing what else to do she placed his wand on his bedside table. As she pulled back he grabbed her hand, and she looked up in surprise. All the uncertainty and confusion had disappeared from his eyes and he pulled her a little closer.

"I'm sorry," she said, fresh tears rolling down her cheeks.

"I'm sorry too," he replied, and she saw something of that spark back in his eyes. He moved over and tapped on the place besides him. The bed was most certainly not made for two people but she jumped on anyway and nestled herself against his chest. And they sat for a while, just like that. Enjoying each others presence that had been so cruelly denied for so long. Hermione listened to Draco's heartbeat, thankful she was still able too. Draco was playing with Hermione's frizzly curls, thinking of how many birds she could house in it and grinning widely. Dinner time passed and the sun was slowly setting behind the trees of the Forbidden Forest when Hermione stirred.

"I should go, Madam Pomfrey has been eyeing us for a while, I'm afraid she'll throw me out soon," she joked, but she wasn't smiling, not truly. She knew what it meant if she left now.

Draco nodded slowly and continued wrapping one of her curls around his fingers.

"You know this has to stop, don't you." She closes her eyes, she did know.

"Just take care of yourself, Draco," she said quietly, afraid her voice might leave her again. She turned to face him and pressed her lips softly on his. This will be the last time, she told herself.

"And please don't hate Harry too much, he didn't know," she said before leaving Draco behind, his heart ripped to pieces and hers barely holding it together.

When she entered the Gryffindor common room she was furious. Furious at Harry for still defending the Half-Blood Prince and furious at Ron and Ginny for defending Harry. But mostly she was furious at herself, for everything.

That night she got tormented by dreams of waking up in a pool of blood and finding Draco's dead body next to her. Voldemort was standing in the room, loudly laughing as he moved about a puppet version of Harry, the strings connected directly to his fingers. Nagini circled around her legs swallowing the little night lamp she had had as a child leaving everything in darkness, she was falling. With a startle she woke up, feeling around for Draco, who was nowhere to be found. She went to sit up and pulled her knees to her chest which received a loud protest from Crookshanks who had been sleeping on her legs. She took the red cat in her arms and hid her face in his fur.

"At least I've still got you."


	14. Chapter 14: Beginning of the End

The fact that Harry had started dating Luna Lovegood seemed to interest people a great lot more than the fact that Harry and Draco had almost killed each other in the sixth floor boys bathroom, something which suited Hermione just fine; she would very much like to forget everything that went down that day.

Draco, as always, had overstayed his welcome in the Hospital Wing and was now up and about, the previous lines on his face invisible. The Gryffindor – Slytherin hostility had returned to normal, which had to say it was still pretty bad. Though, exceeding all expectations, Snape had an even colder attitude towards the Gryffindors, which was not likely to thaw any soon.

With the good weather approaching and the homework doubling Hermione found herself, more often than not, retreating to her secret room. She just wished the year to be over. So much had happened, and so much was still happening, how could she go through with this? Just breath. One breath at a time and Time would do the rest.

The homework was good, it kept her mind off things. And when that wasn't enough she would spit through the library searching for any information regarding Eileen Prince.

Harry didn't much notice her absence, being too busy with his new girlfriend. Ron, however, seemed to think she was being distant, even more so than ever, but he didn't want to study with her that often either.

It was a truly beautiful Sunday afternoon when Ron had come to her usual table at the library and proceeded to drag her outside.

"You know, you're acting like a goblin, staying indoors all the time," Ron joked as they walked towards the Black Lake, though the tone of concern was unmistakable. Hermione shrugged and gave him a half-hearted excuse about having to study.

"You're lying, and we both know it," Ron said and turned to face her. Hermione stopped walking, too, and regarded him with an expression of surprise. How could it be that Ron, of all people, noticed that something was wrong?

"You're just always absent. Sometimes when you say you are at the library you're not. And you've got this aura about you, like you're keeping a secret or something."

Hermione's heart started beating faster with every word he spoke. He knew. He knew about Draco, Dumbledore, all of it. How could he, a more rational voice in her mind spoke but it was soon lost in the cacophony of panic and disaster.

"Hermione, are you dating someone?"

It took a few seconds for the question to sink in and all the noise in her head suddenly fell quiet.

"What?" she asked, still unsure whether she had heard him correctly.

"I asked if you were dating someone," Ron asked again. And now she knew it was not the question she was so taken aback by but the way he asked it. He looked so serious, like he was dreading her answer. Could he possibly… Ron?

She let her eyes drift over the grass field leading up to the Black Lake. Everywhere she looked there were couples; walking hand in hand; snogging in the shade of the blossom trees; laying next to each other in the green grass. Hormones flying everywhere, love was in the air. It wasn't weird for him to ask, he was just curious, as a friend, she concluded.

"No, Ron, I'm not dating anyone," she said, but somehow it came out as more of a sneer. Because she was angry, not at Ron, but at the weather for being so enjoyable, and at Harry for being happy with Luna, and at all the other people who could just do as they please, ignorant to all that would come in the, not so far, future.

"I should go. It was pleasant and all but I just remembered I still have to finish something for Arithmacy. Later Ron!" she said hastily and turned back towards the castle, taking the steps two at a time. Ron was left behind quite baffled, his good intentions squandered. How come Hermione could be such a difficult girl to be around? He watched her run up the stairs at a surprising speed and then shrugged; at least he had tried.

Hermione stormed the castle, yearning for the safety of the library, the smell of old paper and ink, wanting to lose herself in yet another book, another story. Everything and anything to keep her from thinking about-

"Watch out!" shrieked an all to familiar voice as she turned the corridor, bumping into something. Quickly she took a few steps backwards, ready to apologise, and looked up, only to be caught in his liquid silver eyes.

"Oh, it's you," he said at the same time, sounding a little deflated.

"Can't you see we're walking here, you filthy mudblood?" Pansy shrieked again, impervious to what was happening in front of her.

"Are you okay?" Draco asked quietly as he gazed intently back at her. She wanted very much to disapparate right now, but she was frozen at the sincerity of his words; the way his hand reached up as if to wipe the silent tears from her face but how he caught himself just in time.

"Come one, Draco. There is no reason arguing with a mudblood." Pansy shot her another filthy look before pulling Draco away with her, the enchantment abruptly broken.

Hermione wiped the silly tears away from her face herself and continued her way to the library. She needed something, or someone, to distract her. Draco seemed to have moved on, so why shouldn't she?

"I thought you said weren't dating anyone," Ron said, a few weeks later, a hint of betrayal shining through in his voice. It was just after curfew and they were waiting for Harry to return from his meeting with Dumbledore.

"I'm not, Ron. We're not dating, just occasionally hanging out together and-"

"Snogging," Ron interrupted her, scowling.

"Studying, was what I was going to say, but yes, Ron, that too." Hermione was trying very hard to focus on the book she had in her lap, but Ron just wouldn't let her have it.

"But McLaggen? He's such a pompous ass."

"The fact is, Ron," she shut her book a little louder than necessary, "that Cormac happens to be quite an exquisite kisser." He was not. The only reason she liked him was that she would never be able to develop feelings for him, for he was indeed a pompous ass.

The fact that Ron seemed to be thinking he had the same right to be grilling her about her love life as his little sister did was indeed misplaced and annoyed her gravely.

"When do you think Harry comes back?" she asked, trying to stir up the conversation again. Ron had seemed to have taken her comment as a personal insult and for the past ten minutes they had sat in awkward silence.

"Dunno," Ron shrugged and continued gazing into the fire.

"Oh," she said in response and started staring into the fire as well, hoping to find her answers there. But the flames gave her nothing, which didn't come as such a surprise seeing as how she had unceremoniously dropped Divination and how she didn't believe in that nonsense anyway.

When the portrait swung open and Harry came running through, both Gryffindors jumped up in anticipation.

"What does Dumbledore want?" The question had escaped her lips before she knew it and only now did she get a good look at Harry.

"Harry, are you OK?" she added, taking in the gloomy look that was on his face.

"I'm fine," he said and raced passed them up the stairs and into the boys dormitory. Hermione turned to Ron and gave him a puzzled look, which he returned.

"Do you think I should follow, or..." But before Ron had even time to think about the alternative, Harry stormed down the stairs again, coming to a stop in front of them.

"Look, I haven't got much time," he panted, "Dumbledore thinks I'm getting my invisibility cloak. Listen..." In fast tempo Harry explained where he was going, and why.

"… see what this means?" He took no time to look at them for an answer. "Dumbledore won't be here tonight, so Malfoy's going to to have a clear shot at whatever he's up to. _No, listen to me!_ " Harry hissed angrily towards Hermione, who had stood on the verge of interrupting. "I know it was Malfoy celebrating in the Room of Requirement. Here -" Hermione got the Marauder's Map shoved into her hands. "You've got to watch him and you've got to watch Snape, too." Harry quickly started giving out orders. "Use anyone else who you can rustle up from the DA. Dumbledore has put extra protection in place, but if Snape is in on it he'll know how to avoid it – but he won't be expecting you lot to be on watch, will he?"

"Harry-" Hermione began, the fear creeping up to her. Was this really happening?

"I haven't got the time to argue," he said curtly. "Take this as well-" he thrust a pair of rolled up socks into Ron's hands.

"Thanks," Ron said. "Er- why do I need socks?" Somehow, even with all the stress flowing around them, though maybe it was because of that, Hermione could barely hide the small smile that was threatening to take over her face.

"It's the Felix Felicis. Share it. I'd better go, Dumbledore is waiting-"

"No!" Hermione said, horrified, as Ron unwrapped the tiny bottle half-filled with golden potion.

"We don't want it, you should take it. Who knows what you'll be facing?"

"I'll be fine, I'll be with Dumbledore. I just need to know you lot will be OK." A certain dread washed over Hermione, to her this seemed an awful lot like a goodbye.

"Don't look like that, Hermione, I'll see you later." And with that Harry was off and out of the portrait hole, leaving Ron and Hermione to stare at each other with a strange sense of disbelief.

"Well," Ron said after a while, "we better get to it then. Those DA Galleons still work?"

A/N I'm trying to pick up the pace again. Two or three more chapters till the end of the Half-Blood Prince and then we'll move on to Deadly Hallows. I myself am really enjoying the story so far, but let me know what you think :)


	15. Chapter 15: The Darkness Within

The five teens stood huddled together in the empty Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, all holding their DA coin up to Hermione.

"Here," Hermione said after a flick of her wand. "Now we'll all be able to send messages to each other."

Luna, the only non-Gryffindor to show up, inspected her coin approvingly and send out a test message. Immediately the other coins began to heat up. _Just like at the ministry_ , it read. Neville let out a nervous chuckle and put the coin in his pocket.

"At least we'll do better this time," Ron shivered. Apart from the fact that there would be no time bubbles, blood thirsty brains or cryptic prophecies, they had the Felix Felicis to share. Hermione had taken her potion kit with her and divided the golden liquid in five portions. "This will give us each about 2,5 hours of luck. Use it wisely," she advised.

Ron shot Ginny an angry glare when she moved to take one of the bottles. She had caught them just before they had left the Gryffindor Tower and had demanded to come with.

"Mum'll kill me," Ron had called in exasperation, but there was no stopping his sister when she had gotten something in her head.

"Well, if you won't let me come I'll go to McGonagall," she had grinned, knowing she had the upper hand. Ron had grudgingly given in, still casting her worried glances now and then.

"Ginny, I want you and Neville to hold watch outside Snape's office. Harry thinks Snape is in on it," Ron said, trying to adapt and authoritative tone, hoping his sister, for once, would comply.

"I don't need you to watch out for me!" she snapped at Ron, clearly very aware that she had been assigned the safest task. An uncomfortable silence took hold of the group as the two siblings started a glaring contest, until Neville tugged softly at Ginny's arm and whispered something in her ear.

"Fine, I'll go," she reluctantly gave in. "But you'll warn me if something happens, right?" Ron, bewildered by this sudden change in his sisters behaviour, nodded meekly.

"Okay," Hermione quickly jumped in and pulled the attention back to the task division, "while Neville and Ginny keep watch downstairs, we will go to the Room of Requirement, in case Malfoy …is up to something," she said and tried not to imagine the worst. Ron, at first had wanted her to go down with Ginny, but she had refused. If Malfoy really was planning something then she needed a chance to tell him about the alternative.

Before Neville and Ginny exited the classroom Ron pulled Neville aside, curious. "What did you say to convince her?" he asked. Neville turned a positive shade of red.

"I- er, I told her that I'd rather not be left alone with Snape, seeing as that this time picturing him into my grandmother's clothes won't have much effect." Ron had to hold back his laughter, immediately feeling bad for forgetting all about Neville's biggest fear. He remembered all to clearly how he had felt when Harry had dragged him into the heart of the Forbidden Forest only to nearly get eaten alive by a pack of huge, bloodthirsty spiders.

"We can still switch, if you'd rather?" Ron offered.

Neville shook his head, "I'll be fine."

"Wait," Ron hissed as they halted in a corridor. Holding the Marauder's Map he was trying to guide them safely towards the seventh floor. The whole castle seemed to be filled with members of the Order, which was a relief, of course, but also made it rather difficult for them to sneak around.

After a near run-in with Kingsley Shacklebolt – they had hidden behind an ugly tapestry of a Goblin riding a two-headed dragon – they finally arrived in front of the tapestry of the dancing Trolls.

"How are you sure he is in there," Luna asked, staring at the wall opposite of the tapestry. As Ron was busy keeping Neville and his sister up to date about the members of the Order roaming the lower floors, it fell to Hermione to explain about the map.

"We don't talk much," Luna said simply, responding to Hermione's surprise that Harry hadn't told her about the map.

She wasn't sure whether that meant they were too busy doing other things or that their relationship wasn't that serious at all. She had to talk to Harry about it. She liked Luna, even though she was a bit weird, and had seen her blossoming, coming out of her bubble, while she was with Harry. She would hate for that to break just because Harry felt like 'exploring'. On the other hand, Harry wasn't that kind of person, he cared deeply for his friends and would die before seeing them get hurt. Just because she had had a few bad experiences with boys so far didn't mean all boys where like that. Take Victor, they hadn't talked much either, but she knew he genuinely cared for her and they still wrote each other, occasionally.

Hermione and Luna had both taken place on either side of the corridor while Ron was hiding behind a suit of armour somewhere in the middle. As she stared at the brick wall hiding the Room of Requirement she could no longer put off worrying about Draco. Sure, she worried about him a lot, but if what Harry said was true, she should be fearing for his life. If she could just talk to him, persuade him to quit this nonsense of assassination and other evil deeds.

Ron stifled a shout of triumph which surely meant Ginny and Neville had finally made it. Underneath his snappy remarks Ron had always been proud of his little sister, though you would not hear him admit that any time soon.

Seconds turned to minutes which turned to hours. Hermione kept nervously twitching her wand between her fingers, thinking of all the things she could say to Draco. Three words kept playing through her mind, meaning something she was not ready to admit just yet. Between staring at the hands of her watch - which seemed to be slowing down time rather then showing it – and being left alone with her own disaster-filled thoughts, Hermione was climbing the walls.

After what seemed to be half a lifetime, but in reality was only an hour, a door started to form in the bricks in front of the dancing trolls. Hermione quickly send a mild stinging hex to Ron, who had fallen asleep, and nodded towards the door. Luna had already seen it.

Before all the floral details on the door had finished it opened a creak. Someone poked his head around, quickly retreating again. Hermione exchanged nervous glances with the others and motioned for them to take their Felix Felicis. Ron nodded, acknowledging that this was it, took the potion and kept his wand at the ready. When the door opened again, before any of them could do anything, there was a 'poof' and quickly they were immersed in an impenetrable darkness.

"Lumos," Hermione tried, listening to the others two attempt the same, but no light appeared.

It did not take Ron long to recognize the twin's product. "Curse it, Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder," he bit.

There were footsteps and whispers, and Hermione felt the hairs at the back of her neck rise as she realised Draco had not come alone.

" _Stupify_ ," Ron shouted and Hermione heard the spell collide with stone a few meters left from her. Amused laughter came from the darkness, worryingly close to Hermione. She wanted to tell him to do nothing, but she was too busy slinking back against the wall. Loosing her vision like that left her depending on her other senses, and what they were telling her didn't particularly ease her mind. Especially not the sound of multiple footsteps coming her way.

Suddenly she bumped into something, her cry of surprise muffled by the clammy hand put on her mouth.

"Hey, hey, it's me, Draco," his familiar voice whispered and she ceased to struggle. "I'm going to take my hand away now. Don't scream, okay?" She could feel his breath against her cheeks, his fingers digging into her skin. She nodded and his hand disappeared. For a moment she was uncertain of his presence until he put his hand on her shoulder, guiding her to make an image in her mind of how he stood in front of her.

"What have you done," she said anxiously, her ears straining to hear anything else. Once again she heard a bash of laughter, a little further away this time. The group had already moved past her, penetrating the castle.

"Look, it isn't safe, OK. Take your friends and go back to bed," he told her, urgency apparent in his voice.

"Draco, you know I can't," she couldn't stop her voice from breaking. Was it already too late?

"You have too, Hermione. You don't understand!" he pressed, the panic he felt expressed so very clearly. She couldn't be here. All the times he had shunned her, avoided her, because he knew that if he didn't he wouldn't be able to complete his task, fearing what she might think of him. He had tried to hate her, forget about her, focusing only on the importance of what lay ahead. But here she was and the thought of staying with her was just so tempting. He wanted to take her in his arms, kiss her, see the light in her eyes one more time, and at the same time stay hidden in this darkness, together, forever.

"You don't have to do this. Dumbledore can help you, _and_ your family. Please, Draco," she pleaded, biting back tears. He wanted to tell her he was making a better world, but he had stopped believing that a long time ago. Somehow he just wasn't able to stop moving in this direction. He had already been led to far down the path, burning all the bridges behind him. If he couldn't follow the Dark Lord, what would his purpose be? Who would he be? No one. He was Draco Malfoy, fighting for a righteous cause.

"I made my choice, Hermione. I just needed to see you one last time." A sudden calmness swept over him. This was what he was meant to do. He would complete his task, exonerate his father, and clear the Malfoy name.

In the eerie blue light that shone from the candle held by the Hand of Glory he saw a single tear roll over Hermione's face. Softly he wiped it away with his thumb and pressed his lips against her forehead.

"Go back to bed, Granger," he said, pulling away from her. This was how it had always meant to be. No doubt crossed his mind that he was doing the right thing. In a few moments it would all be over. He would be respected, admired. And with sure strides he caught up with his fellow Death Eaters, ready to join them in their cause of pain and destruction. All parts of him that had ever cared about Hermione Granger locked away, buried deep, the keys destroyed.

A/N OeF. Thoughts?  
(Major thanks to Snowflake Dazzle for your kind reviews)

PS: Next chapter won't take as long, already got most of it written.


	16. Chapter 16: Up in the Clouds

From where he had first made her heart skip a beat, she now felt like he had punched her in the gut. She doubled over clutching herself, unable to breath. It was as if she had been thrown in the ice cold ocean, emotions flowing past her like the currents of the sea. She had convinced herself he loved her, that he would choose her above anything. Had she been wrong? Projected her own feelings on his actions. The sea coloured red around her by the sudden stream of blood leaking from her heart, leaving nothing but rage, hatred.

'I just needed to see you one last time,' the words rang through her head. 'Go back to bed, Granger.'

"Hermione, 'Mione, are you OK?" Ron crouched down next to her and started rubbing her back. When she opened her eyes she found the smoke had lifted.

"Yeah," she nodded, wiping the tears from her face. "I must have been in the way, they shoved me aside with some sort of hex," she lied before Ron could ask. Luna gave her a look but didn't comment.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Ron asked again as he helped her stand up, holding her just a little longer than necessary. Hermione avoided looking him in the eyes for fear she might start crying again. There was so much she wished she could tell her best friend, but now was not the time. She had to be strong. So she nodded and took a step towards Luna studying the map. Ron's arms fell to his sides and he too got reminded of why they were here. Why couldn't Hermione just have gone to patrol the dungeons with his sister? Having her here raised the stakes considerably. But he knew just as well that Hermione was an exeptional witch and she would have no problem standing her ground if it came to a fight so he decided to cease worrying.

"How many Death Eaters entered the castle?" Hermione asked.

"Seven plus Malfoy," Luna answered while pointing to a cluster of names and footsteps still on the 7th floor, "And-"

"We should go after them!" Ron optioned eagerly. That he had decided to stop worrying about Hermione didn't mean he wouldn't give those bastards what they deserved. He had always known Draco Malfoy to be the rotten person he now proved to be. The apple didn't fall far from the tree, after all.

"And Professor McGonagall is right behind us," Luna continued calmly.

"What in Merlin's name is going on?" Minerva's shrill voice ran through the corridor. The three teens turned around to see their Transfiguration professor step from the shadows, followed by their old Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

"It's Malfoy, he's got seven Death Eaters in the castle," Ron quickly said. "Here," he took the map from Luna and showed it to Lupin, a look of understanding crossing his face, "they're heading to the Astronomy Tower." McGonagall gave him a questioning look but Lupin nodded as if to validate their statement.

"I'll alert the others," she said and with a wave of her wand three silver cats with spectacle markings appeared and sprinted off in the dark.

"And you," she pointed to the three students, "fifty points each." Hermione immediately felt the need to protest, but got silenced by the stern look McGonagall shot in her direction. "Get inside the Room of Requirement and stay there," she ordered and together with Lupin rushed into the direction the Death Eaters had gone.

The trio was left gazing at each other, adrenaline pumping through there veins together with 2½ hours worth of Felix Felicis.

"We're not actually going to stay here, are we?" Luna asked, her eyes moving expectantly from Ron to Hermione. She had read the situation correctly.

"No, we're not," Hermione declared, the pain in her heart replaced with a fiery anger. The points had already been taken, her heart had already been broken, the only thing left to do now was to protect the school against those who wished it harm, whoever that may be.

"Let's go!" she said and ran after their Transfiguration Professor. Ron and Luna shared a grin before following Hermione into their uncertain future.

Two corridors in they could already hear the shouting and curses bouncing off walls. Without hesitation Hermione plunged herself into the fight, losing track of her friends. The only thing she could focus on was Malfoy, her eyes frantically searching around. She shot multiple hexes to several Death Eaters and dodged a few stray curses. She got to the other end of the battlefield without a scratch.

"You coward!" she cried, shooting a hex in Draco's direction to get his attention. He parried it with some difficulty.

"Don't do this, Hermione," he shouted back, the words barely audible over the cacophony of spells and maniac laughter.

"I never meant for this-" he started as he blocked another jinx.

"I. Don't. Want. To. Hear. Your. Sad. Excuses." With every word she slashed her wand at him, casting silent stupefy spells.

He had to take some steps backward and gave her one mournful look before turning around and disappearing up the stairs. Boiling with anger at his cowardice she made to follow and ran at full speed into an invisible barrier getting propelled backwards, straight into Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Sorry," she apologised automatically, rolling aside and getting to her feet. She grimaced and checked herself for blood but she was lucky someone had broken her fall. Speaking of, she turned around to help the other person up but found the crazy Death Eater glaring at her. From the ground she shot a curse in Hermione's direction who stumbled sidewards just in time, only her right shoulder got grazed. She attempted to disarm the witch but was only met with more maniac laughter.

"Oh how gallant of you! But gallantry is not going to win you this fight, filthy mudblood," Bellatrix sneered, jumping to her feet and shooting several Unforgivable Curses in Hermione's direction. Hermione stumbled back, having only the Felix Felicis to depend on as she grasped the wound on her shoulder, warm blood trickling through her fingers. She bit back the white dots that were threatening to take over her vision and raised her arm.

" _Impedimenta_!" she screamed, ignoring the numbness that was settling in her fingers.

"You're just not good enough," Bellatrix mocked, "a mudblood like you never will be." The white dots of pain got replaced by raging anger, that took Hermione into a trance of vengeance. Shooting one curse after the other the only distinction she made was between friend and enemy. As she fought the only thing that kept her going was the fact that eventually Draco would have to come down that staircase, and she would… The thought stuck in her mind, what would she do? She wanted to hurt him, scream at him, but what she wanted the most was for him to feel what she was feeling. The betrayal, the grief, the fact that she still wanted him so bad it made her sick. Two more Death Eaters ran through the invisible barrier. It must have something to do with their Marks, she mused as she slumped against the wall breathing fast and clutching the wound on her shoulder.

"Are you okay?" Ron yelled and tried to make his way towards her. Hermione did not have the energy to roll her eyes. How many times had he asked her that already, she wondered. Instead she nodded, took another breath and threw herself into the action once more. Somewhere along the way Neville and Ginny had joined fight.

When she looked up she saw Professor Snape descending the staircase, Draco in his wake. He had done it then, convinced Draco to give up on his quest. She couldn't help the bitterness rising up inside of her. What could his Head of House have said what she hadn't?

No one attacked the duo as they strode through the battlefield and disappeared around a corner. Hermione turned in time to see Harry running down the stairs.

"Harry!" she cried, relieved to see him alive, as he stormed past her following Snape and Draco.

"It was Snape! Snape killed Dumbledore!" yelled Harry before disappearing, too.

Astonished, Hermione lowered her wand. Dumbledore, dead. How could this have happened. She made to follow Harry, but before she had taken two steps she got hit squarely in the back by a Cruciatus Curse. She fell to the ground, her whole body convulsing. The pain of her shoulder was nothing compared to the pain that was now reigning her body. Everything around Hermione faded as she was left with nothing but pain to keep her company. Her whole body burned, crumbled, turned to dust and burned again. She clawed at her skin as if ripping it off would bring some relief. For a moment it stopped, only to continue again. It was as if her lungs had been bursting, screaming for air and she had finally reached the surface, only to be pulled under again after taking only half a breath.

Her head hit the stone hard and the pain stopped, slowly ebbing away. When she opened her eyes she found a pair of silver unseeing ones staring back at her.


	17. Chapter 17: Sea of Rough Emotion

Voices. Light. The occasional presence by her bedside. It all drifted past Hermione as if she was covered by a shroud of fog. Riding through a field of sorrows, protected against it by her own sense of guilt. Facts barely scraping against the outsides of her glass coffin.

Dumbledore was dead. Snape had killed him. Malfoy had betrayed them, he had betrayed _her_.

The guilt she felt about not comprehending Draco was nothing compaired to the shame she felt at the way her heart had jumped a beat when he had descended that staircase alive. Through all the anger the feeling of relief had been undeniably there, threatening to resurface at the earliest mention of his well-being. But those eyes, the swirling silver in them hardened and broken. They had been empty, dead.

It was the eerie song of the Phoenix that enabled the tears that had previously shattered on the marble floor like glass, to now roll down like the drops of salty water they actually where. It was the song that guided her on her journey through her consciousness, but it had not been able to banish his eyes. Dead, yet still watching.

Hermione woke with a start, scrambling to clear herself of the covers. Everything felt suffocating, the very air was pressing her down. She said upright taking in the dark room, which could only be the Hospital Wing. Through the grand round window came the earliest hints of dusk. Her ears picked up the sound of raspy breaths and she turned to her right.

"It's that bad, eh?" Bill said in response to her widened eyes, self-consciously touching the drab his face was covered in.

"I'm pretty sure you shouldn't touch that," she said relaxing. Even in the dark she immediately recognized the Weasley hair. Besides Ron, Bill had been the only other Weasley male to join in the fighting. She was glad not to be alone.

Bill scoffed, "Madam Pomfrey told me as much. It still itches like hell."

Automatically Hermione started adding up all the possible ingredients that could have gone in the poultice. Judging by the smell it was safe to say fermented frog organs were one.

"What happened?" she asked, hoping he would not confirm what she was already thinking.

Bill looked down a moment before answering, "Werewolfbite, or slashes more like it. But he wasn't transformed so that counts for something."

Hermione noticed the way he tried to lighten his words, hiding his devastation, because she, too, knew exactly what it felt like to hide her own despair. She moved to hug him, this brother of Ron's she had had no more than a few conversations with about his work as a curse-breaker, in this moment felt closer than any of her closest friends had ever done.

"I'm sorry, Bill."

And he, too, felt that unspoken connection as he hugged her tight after only a moment of surprise.

"I'm sorry, too."

They let go of each other and exchanged sad smiles.

"You know, you talked about him, while you were asleep," he said, carefully choosing his words, offering her a lifeline out of that sea of rough emotion.

"I thought I could change him," she admitted, amazed at how easy it was to confess her secrets to Bill. After all the troubles she had gone through to keep her secrets buried, it was seemed so easy to just let it all out. Bill gave her an encouraging nod and so she did. She told him about there meeting in the library, how looking back he could only have searched for information to abuse. How he had offered to pay his debt and she had asked he wouldn't call her a Mudblood any more. How she had seen him carrying the necklace into the Three Broomsticks, and later when she confronted him she had kissed his tears away. How avoiding Malfoy had become a daily sport and when they finally met up again he had obliviated her. When she had found out she forced him to put her memories back and she remembered him kissing her, so she had kissed him again and… Hermione couldn't voice the way she had felt when he had pushed her away once more, breaking his word and calling her a Mudblood. When Ron got poisoned she just knew it had to have been him, again she confronted him and this time she discovered his Dark Mark. When she went to Dumbledore he had told her to keep quiet because he had everything covered, only he hadn't. And she told him about the fight in the boys bathroom and how she had gone with him to the Hospital Wing. The way he had again shown to be the person she had fallen in love with. But in the end he hadn't chosen her.

"I though I could change him," she repeated, "but I was wrong. And now all this is happening because I let him do it. I should have stopped him. I -" her voice broke, tears already halfway down her cheeks before she thought to wipe them away.

"Loving someone is never wrong, Hermione. Love is the purist of emotions and in this time of hatred we could use some more." Bill had stayed quiet throughout her story, no judgement had flickered on his face and he had kept urging her to continue. He knew that if he hadn't given her the opportunity to talk she would very likely have kept it inside until it eventually consumed her.

"But that isn't right," she opposed, remembering the fiery hatred that had rushed through her veins mere hours ago, trying to grasp at what was left.

"I want to hate him. He deserves to suffer for what he has done," she spat. Somehow it seemed easier to hate him than to give in to the sheer desperation that was the ever growing pit in her stomach.

"But you can't," Bill concluded. Hermione nodded defeatedly.

"Hatred does more damage to the person holding it than to the person it is directed at. Try to forgive him and if you can't, at least forgive yourself."

A feeling of understanding dawned in Hermione. The words Bill had spoken made sense now, blaming herself wouldn't solve anything, just like hating Malfoy wouldn't. But forgiveness? That seemed a step too far.

"What about you?" she asked, offering him the same courtesy, and partly because she didn't think she had any more to give. Yes, a weight had been lifted of her shoulders, but she had been walking around carrying that weight for so long she didn't know who she was any more without it, and now, now she would have to claim herself all over again.

Bill shrugged, "It's not as bad as it seems. My mother and Fleur finally see eye to eye. Besides, comparing to Lupin it could have been worse." The same airy tone in his voice. She wanted to give Bill someone to confide in, someone to trust, but forcing him wouldn't do anyone any good.

"Just because someone else has got it worse doesn't mean you don't get to feel the way you do. Don't validate your feelings on someone else's situation."

"I'm scared," Bill admitted after a while and for a moment it seemed like he wouldn't elaborate either.

"Scared of what the werewolf poison might do to me. Scared that Fleur could still decide to leave me tomorrow. Scared that if she doesn't I'll drag her down with me," Bill rambled, pressing his palms to his forhead. He looked at her and quietly added, "I love her and I don't want her to suffer for loving me back."

"Trust me, pushing her away won't solve anything."

"You're right," he nodded in understanding and returned her sad smile.

For a while they sad in contemplative silence, each trying to figure out how this new perspective would fit into their lives. As the light gained territory on the shadows, their clutches of despair weakened, the first birds started their morning song.

"You should try and get some sleep," Bill said, "Madam Pomfrey won't treat me kindly when she finds out I've been keeping you awake."

"I believe it was a mutual effort." Hermione jumped of his bed and tiptoed back to her own.

"Goodnight," she whispered before pulling the covers over her eyes, trying to shut out the light.

"Goodmorning," Bill replied.

A smile played around Hermione's lips as she fell back into a dreamless sleep. The dead eyes that had previously haunted her put to rest.

Breakfast was filled with Bill telling her what happened yesterday and Madam Pomfrey telling him to be quiet lest the wounds on his face reopen. Apparently the eyes she had been seeing were those of Gibbon, the only casualty of the battle.

The Death Eaters had entered the castle via the Vanishing Cabinet Malfoy had fixed which connected to it's twin at Borgin and Burkes. The Death Mark had been put above the astronomy tower to lure Dumbledore and an invisible barrier had been placed in front of the stairs and, as Hermione had suspected, only those with a Dark Mark could pass. Snape had been alerted and even though Ginny had hexed his robes to grow a few centimeters causing Snape to repeatedly stumble and even fall once, this had not prevented him from killing Dumbledore. Hermione was glad to hear that Draco had not tarnished his soul with murder even if his hands were still stained with their Headmaster's blood.

As Madam Pomfrey unwound the bandages covering her right arm Hermione asked when she would be discharged. The gash had healed completely, only a pink line of babyskin still visible. The healer gave Hermione a stern look but told her she was free to go, if she remembered to take her rest.

Hermione moved to give Bill another hug, careful not to mess up the newly applied drab on his face.

"Thank you," she said softly, knowing that if he had not enabled her to talk about her feelings she would eventually have corrupted her own heart with hatred.

"And you, too," Bill replied, also glad to have had the weight lifted from his chest, even if it had been just a little. He had found Hermione to be a remarkable young witch and hoped she would get through this war emotionally intact. He hoped they all would.

"And you stink, you know," she added teasingly and pulled away. The way they had talked yesterday had somewhat scared her, too. To have that level of understanding with someone she had never even thought possible, not even with Draco. Hermione wondered if Bill was the friend she had needed all along.

"Oh well, I suppose Fleur smells good enough for us both, as well," Bill joked to himself and waved to Hermione as she disappeared between the grand double doors.

A/N Well, well, wel. Here is the next chapter. Saw that someone was wondering whether the previous chapter would be the last, thank you for your question and the answer is no. My plan is to continue into the Deathly Hallows, but I'll only be adding chapters were stuff differentiates from cannon. After TDH I will continue my the post-Hogwarts story focusing mainly on Draco and Hermione. Also there are now over a hundred people following this story! Thank you all so very much 3


	18. Chapter 18 The Heart Burns the Brightest

Draco Malfoy spent most of his days in his room, whenever his presence wasn't required at the Dark Lord's table. Though he had made Dumbledore's murder possible his glory had been short lived. His father had been granted his freedom but the Malfoy family name had not been cleared.

Nervously Draco twisted the ring engraved with the family crest around his finger. Another meeting had been announced and each ticking of the clock brought it closer. A knock on the door made him get off his bed.

"Come in," he said as he took a hand through his hair. It was getting too long, like his father's.

"I brought dinner." His mother entered and put the tray on his desk.

Draco nodded. "Thanks." He tried not to look at the food disgusted. Lately he found it hard to get anything through his throat except the fire whiskey he had found in his father's study. His mother was still lingering in the doorway, a worried look across her face that he had grown all too accustomed to lately.

"How is father?" He asked more out of sonly duty than out of actual interest. Since his father had returned from Azkaban he'd been different, broken. All the respect he had held for the man had disappeared and it had left him questioning his reality. Where would he be now if his parents had thought him how to love, instead of how to hate?

"He is doing good," his mother answered and gave him a watery smile. They both knew he wasn't.

"Enjoy your dinner," she said in a last attempt of saving the family that was already broken. Draco nodded again and watched her turn around and leave.

Without giving the tray a second look he moved to his window. The grand gardens seemed to take no notice of the depressed atmosphere that hung around the house and its inhabitants, and neither did the white peacocks who merrily trotted about.

Walking down the ancient staircase Draco ignored the other Death Eaters entering his house. His mother and father were already seated at the long black table.

"You're late," his father hissed as Draco took the seat next to him.

"Sorry father." He closed his eyes in a moment of annoyance, more than half the seats were yet to be filled.

As he had done before every encounter with the Dark Lord Draco started checking his mental shields. He would be dead the moment the Dark Lord discovered his memories with Hermione Granger.

A fire sprang to life beneath the marble mantelpiece signalling the Dark Lord's arrival. Everyone present hurried to their assigned seats and stood behind the chairs. It was as much a done out of respect as it was out of necessity. No one wanted to be in the way as the grotesque snake slithered through the room.

"Come Nagini." Voldemort's quiet voice sounded from the other end of the table at which he was now seated. There had been now 'pop' of apparition and the fire had not turned green as it did when the floo network was used. Had Draco not grown up in this manor with all it's hidden doors and passageways he would be just as mystified as the majority of the witches and wizards present.

The space just left from the fireplace only pretended to be a wall, in reality it covered a single staircase leading straight to the basement. Ever since the Dark Lord had declared this house his headquarters Draco had not dared to thoughtlessly wander through. Who knew which hidden passageways he or his snake utilized.

"I see we are nearly complete. Wormtal, bring out the prisoner, if you please."

The rat-like man made a noise which could only be described as sniffling and disappeared through a wooden side door. That piqued everyone's curiosity and they started clapping when Wormtail appeared again, a petrified body floating behind him.

It did not take long for Draco to recognize the witch.

"Silence." Those still clapping immediately stopped and seemingly lost all interest in the woman as she was moved to float above the table. Draco could not keep his eyes off of her.

"Yaxley. Snape. You are very nearly late," Voldemort said and pointed the two to their seats.

Most of the conversation went past Draco as he tried very hard to concentrate but failed every time as his eyes got pulled again and again to the floating Hogwarts professor. She had taught muggle studies and though he had never been in touch with the subject he had seen the Professor seated at the High table.

A wail sounded from beneath their feet, a terrible drawn-out cry of misery and pain and everyone looked down uncertainly.

"Wormtail, have I not spoken to you about keeping our guest quiet?" A chair scraped over the floor as Wormtail got up and left the room.

"As I was saying," Voldemort continued, looking at the faces of each of his followers. Draco kept his head down. "I shall need to borrow a wand from one of you before I go to kill the Potter boy."

The silence was a loud enough portrayal of shock. They had already given him their souls and now he wanted a wand to top it off?

"No volunteers?" A dangerous smile played around the snake-man's lips. He got up and walked the length of the table, his fingers touching the backs of the chairs ever so lightly before finally stopping behind Draco.

If he'd refuse, would the Dark Lord just kill him and be over with it, he wondered as his heart started beating faster.

"Lucius, I see no reason for you to carry your wand any more."

"My lord?" Lucius Malfoy responded, the words catching in his throat. Draco could practically feel his father shaking next to him.

"Your wand, Lucius. I require your wand." The words were spoken slowly, as if to a child.

"I-" The hesitation was so obvious that everyone around them shifted in their chairs. Some nervous, others expectantly. For a moment Draco caught the eye of his former Potions Master, the only one to sit entirely still. In his eyes he saw a green flash, the old man falling from the tower, the sound his body made when it hit the ground. Draco took care not to meet Snape's eyes again.

"What is it?" The Dark Lord asked as he took the wand Lucius reluctantly offered.

"Elm, my lord," Lucius whispered, all colour drained from his face. It was almost like the connection to magic had been the only thing to keep him standing these past few weeks.

"And the core?"

"Dragon- Dragon heartstring."

"Good," said Lord Voldemort as he compared it to his own.

Draco turned to look at his mother, who kept her eyes sternly at the table. He resolved to do the same as the insults flew over its surface tarnishing the Malfoy name. He could not bear to hear his father grovel. His father, who had once been so mighty, who he had looked up to most of his life had revealed himself to be cowardly and weak. And Draco hated him for it because he was the same.

With a flick of his father's wand the Dark Lord removed the petrification charm on the witch and with a tiny groan she started to struggle against her invisible bonds.

"Do you recognize our guest, Serverus?" Voldemort asked and everyone turned to face Snape.

"Serverus! Help me!" The terrified voice came from above and Draco found he was unable to look up again.

"And you, Draco?"

He shook his head, feeling all eyes on him, even the ones of the tied up witch. No, as long as he pretended he did not maybe she wouldn't come haunt his dreams, maybe she'd see him as just a bystander and haunt Snape instead. It was a terrible superstition.

"For those of you who do not know, we are joined here by Charity Burbage who, until recently, taught at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. This week Professor Burbage wrote a passionate piece in defence of muggles. Given her way she would have us _mate_ with them."

The witch's whimpering was lost in the deafening noise of disgust and angry protests made by the Death Eaters.

"Avada Kedavra."

The room, quiet now, was illuminated by the flash of green light reaching every corner. With a thump the lifeless body fell onto the table. In his haste to get away Draco fell backwards out of his chair. He could barely hold back his tears as he was forced to watch Nagini swallow the body whole.


	19. Chapter 19: Losing Home

The fire tore through her old childhood home leaving nothing but memories. On the opposite side walk Hermione watched, the heat tearing up her eyes. Some onlookers shouted in distress and she could already hear the sirens roaring in the distance. She had made sure the fire would leave the neighbouring houses untouched yet couldn't help feeling guilty. She had never thought to add arson to her ever growing list of violations.

She knew she shouldn't have stayed, it only made it hurt more; but she had wanted to make sure no one got hurt in the process. She had already caused enough pain.

"Come Crookshanks," she said as she took the red cat in her arms. She had miniaturized her trunk to fit in her pocket but she knew the spell wouldn't hold long. With one last longing look she apparated to a field close by the Burrow. Ron had told her of all the extra ministry approved protections they had added, plus Fred and George had charmed all the chickens to alarm if any unwanted visitors stood lurking around. Hermione doubted whether the chickens would recognize her as a wanted visitor.

Looking around she found she was in an deserted field. She knew the Burrow to be at her left because she remembered the tree they had passed when taking a portkey to the World Cup.

She took the trunk and placed it a few feet away where it expanded into its normal size with a plop. Crookshanks she let out to explore. Sagging against the tree she put her head in her hands. The past few weeks certainly hadn't been easy and the trunk now contained everything she owned, though she still hadn't had the time to sort out her stuff.

She had spent her days reading in Dumbledore's books for any information on Horcruxes, trying to prepare as best she could for their oncoming journey and devising a way to keep her parents safe for when she was gone.

Wendall and Monica Wilkins had left three days ago to pursue their lifelong dream of living in Australia.

Suddenly all the feelings of sadness, dread and guilt that she had kept at bay came washing over her. Sobs tore out of her body and she held onto the tree for dear life. Her heart still couldn't understand why she had sent her parents away, even when she kept telling herself it was for the best. She hated, hated what she had done, even though it had been her only option.

The heartbreak, the tears, the noise filling her head, she let it all out into the early morning air.

Crookshanks nudged her side, asking to be picked up and fell asleep in her lap as her breaths turned back to normal. She wiped her tears away and hugged him tight.

As the sun rose and her watch told her it was nearing six she dusted the dirt of her pants and made her way to the Burrow.

She felt lighter, the exhaustion of the past three weeks washed away. Somehow she was still holding on and she would keep on fighting until this gods damned war was over and she could finally go back to being a normal witch with normal problems.

As predicted the chickens went crazy, running around in a frantic panic the moment Hermione set foot over the threshold.

Molly poked her head around the door and gave her a tired smile. "It's just you. Come inside, quickly." She followed the red haired witch into the messy kitchen.

"They'll calm down in just a moment. Breakfast?" Hermione nodded gratefully and sat down at the table.

"Good morning," she greeted Arthur. He mumbled something that resembled a 'you too' behind the pages of the Daily Prophet.

"Anything interesting?" She had unsubscribed to the paper just days ago. She wouldn't be needing it on the road and she didn't want them to know she was staying at the Burrow. She'd probably borrow his later.

"Just Rita Skeeter with another article slandering Dumbledore," he said putting down the newspaper. "She's the most unreliable journalist I've ever come across." Hermione had to agree, she knew from experience. She wished she still had the beetle in a glass jar, safely tucked away in her trunk, alas.

Before she knew it she had some toast with marmalade in front of her and a cup of freshly brewed coffee. "How are the preparations going?" she asked Molly, noting the mess was more than usual.

Molly turned to her with a feverish hint in her eyes, "There is still so much to be done." Hermione listned with half an ear to the bulking list of task that had to be completed within a week's time. And between that they also had to get Harry, somehow.

Her heart jumped when Ginny finally came to save her, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "I'm going to get hex Fred and George into oblivion and chain them between those ruddy chickens until they lose their minds," she murmured and flopped down next to Hermione, who stifled a laugh.

"Good morning to you, too."

After Ginny had fully woken up and downed her breakfast the two girls went up to Ginny's room.

"I'm so glad your here," Ginny let out and before either of them knew it they where hugging.

"I've missed you too."

Her friend pulled away but kept holding her arms, in support. "Did you do it?" Her voice serious now and worry flickered on her face. Hermione nodded, once. Ginny had been the only person she'd told of her plans, the only one she felt safe to tell everything.

Almost everything. She hadn't told her about Draco. She wasn't planning to. In fact she had buried those feelings for him so deep that she sometimes wondered if they'd actually vanished. And then one night she would wake up franticly feeling for him at her side. She always came up empty handed and with tears in her eyes. Only Bill knew, and somehow that reassured her that it hadn't all been something she'd made up. It told her she was entitled to that pain, to that feeling of implacable loss.

Love is never wrong, echoed through her head.

"How are you holding up?" Good question.

"Fine."

She hadn't been fine in a while and there was no fooling her friend, but Ginny accepted the answer and hugged her again. "Tell me when you're ready to talk."

Hermione nodded and sat down on the small bed next to the closet. "Where's Ron?" A not so very subtle change of subject.

"Probably still sleeping, the lazy swine. And if not he'll have gone into hiding for those chores Mum is handing out like Christmas presents." Both chuckled.

"She didn't seem very pleased to see me," Hermione noted, remembering the pursed lips as Molly had watched her gobble down her breakfast.

"She got wind of that secret journey you guys are going on. I reckon she'll have you cornered in no time, demanding answers." Ginny smiled but her discontentment was easily spotted.

"I'm sorry Gin, but we really have to do this by ourselves."

"I know, I know. I just wished it was different. Promise me you'll stay safe? All of you."

"Promise. And do you promise to keep Hogwarts safe while we're gone?" The red haired witch nodded and the smiles returned to their faces.

Hermione stood up. "I'm going to see how Ron is holding up."

She was halfway out of the door when Ginny stopped her. "Be careful." Hermione turned back to her friend. "I mean, don't hurt him." Ginny cast her eyes to the floor. "I know you don't love him," she blurted out.

"What, of course I love your brother," she said, a little hurt.

"Not like that, Hermione. He fancies himself in love with you." The silence pressed onto her heart made worse only by the fact that she knew it to be true and hadn't discouraged it. She'd just avoided the subject altogether. Didn't she make for a shit friend. Suddenly Molly called for Ginny to help with the tablecloth, shredding the silence.

"Just don't give him false hope or anything." Ginny gave her another look and then darted down the stairs. Dazed Hermione walked the stairs to Ron's attic bedroom, a dark pit growing in her stomach.

Usually she'd just storm into Ron's room without any regard for his privacy. This time she stopped, remembering Ginny's words and knocked.

He was barely awake when he called for Hermione to enter. "What is it," he mumbled from beneath his blankets, only a tuft of red hair visible.  
"Hi Ron." He would recognize that voice anywhere.

"You're back!" He jumped out of bed straight into Hermione, wrapping his arms around her as tightly as he could. Surprised she patted his bare back and smiled awkwardly, so far with being careful. Perhaps she shouldn't have gone to his room at all.

Ron realising now that he was only wearing undergarments swore and hastily pulled some pants from the floor. She turned away politely as he clumsily scrambled into them and when she turned back he had also thrown a shirt over his head. They were both as red as turnips.

"So, eh- How've you been?" he asked, scratching the back of his head.

"I charmed my parents into thinking they are other people and made them move to Australia so You-Know-Who can't harm them," she said quietly as giant tears appeared in her eyes.

So selfish, so utterly selfish, her mind screamed as Ron took her in his arms and told her to tell him everything. But she needed him, she needed him to keep her together, needed him to put back the pieces of her broken heart. Even if he cut himself on the shards.

"Listen, 'Mione," he started as he lifted her chin to look into her eyes. "When all this is over we are going to find them and we are going to bring them back, together." There was such fierce determination in his eyes that it made he sigh and nod.

Yes, she still had Ron and that was enough.

[Edit: In Chapter 5 I previously stated the Burrow had burned down, that was a mistake so I changed it.]


	20. Chapter 20: One of Seven

The plan had altered last minute and now here they were sneaking around Privet drive covered by a disillusionment charm. Mad Eye Moody had yet to detect any Death Eaters but they were sure to lie in wait, somewhere.

Ron's constant breathing in her neck and nervous fidgeting didn't help much either. So much for having to stay close.

Every time she looked at him she remembered Ginny's words. She knew she should talk to him and she knew she was a fool for hoping it would die out. Instead she had been focusing on getting her priority bag ready, for when they had to leave abruptly. And she still had all her books to sort through and the wedding was in a few days and she hadn't even spoken to Bill yet. There was so much to distract her and she didn't mind one bit.

Hermione felt the charm fall off them as they entered the house. Stumbling through the hallway she couldn't help but notice the tiny cupboard under the stairs Harry once told her he had used to live in.

"Harry!" she cried and flung herself into his arms. "I've missed you so." Of the few letters she had send him nothing had contained anything of actual importance and she longed to tell him all about what she'd found out about Horcruxes this summer.

"I'm not letting you all risk your lives for me again," Harry shouted after having been explained the plan. Seven Potters, identical due to Polyjuice Potion would all be brought to a different highly secured location connected to the Order in some way. Each Harry with their own guardian, owl and glasses.

"I told you he wouldn't take it well," Hermione said to no one in particular. Harry noted the tone of complacency but ignored her.

"If you think I'm going to let six people risk their lives-!"

"Because it's the first time for all of us," said Ron, making Harry remember all the times they had indeed risked their lives for him. It didn't make him feel any better.

"Come on Harry," Tonks came in between, "You'd be doing us all a favour if you'd just stay alive long enough to do in You-Know-Who." Noises of agreement came from all over the room. Harry couldn't take his eyes of the simple golden band that adorned her finger, a matching one to Lupin's. How could he expect all those people to risk their lives over and over again. He should have left way earlier, then none of this would have happened.

Moody took a threatening step forward. "Here with the hairs, boy. Or do I have to pull them out myself?" Reluctantly Harry pulled out some hairs and put it into the bottle Moody held out to him.

"That's a lot tastier than the stuff Crabbe and Goyle made us drink," Ron remarked beholding the golden liquid in his cup. Hermione nodded thoughtfully before downing her tiny cup in one go. Harry was sure she would research this the moment they had more time on their hands.

Hermione looked at the potion dubiously before downing it in one go. She shuddered as the liquid ran down her throat and remembered the time she had spent weeks in the Hospital Wing looking like a feline monster. Her head started itching as her brown curls shot back and she ran a hand through her new coup. She had never thought to go that short.

"At least I'm still better looking than you," either Fred or George said to the other.

"Harry, your eyesight really is awful" she noted as she held her fingers in front of her. Harry just scoffed in annoyance and was pleased even less so when six Harrys started stripping in his living room.

Hermione tried not to look at all the half naked Harrys – or her own naked Harry, for that matter – as she quickly shot into some of Harry's clothes.

"Now that we're all ready and dressed," Moody started while still half the room was hopping about searching for left shoes and such.

"The pairs will be as follows – Mundungus will be with me on a broom. Arthur and Fred. The other one - you're with Remus. Miss Delacour -"

"I'm taking Fleur on a Thestral," said Bill. "She's not that fond of brooms."

"Miss Granger with Kingsley, again by Thestral -"

Hermione sighed in relieve as she answered Kingsley's reassuring smile, she couldn't have hoped for anyone better.

"Which leaves you and me, Ron!" said Tonks brightly, knocking over a mug tree as she waved at him. Ron did not look quite as pleased.

"An' you're with me, Harry. That all righ'?" Hagrid said, looking a little anxious. Harry nodded but Hermione knew her friend well enough to know he wasn't at all that enthusiastic.

"Alright then, we're to leave in three minutes," Moody said holding his pocket watch and ushered everyone outside. "No point in locking the door behind us, it won't stop any Death Eaters."

Hermione didn't know she should be glad because she wasn't riding a broom or horrified she was riding a Thestral. Her last time had been, safe to say, unpleasant. It wasn't just the fact she was a little scared of heights but flying on an invisible flesh eating horse associated with death didn't make it any better either. She let herself be guided to the horse by Kingsley and was burning to ask who he had seen die as he lifted her on the invisible horse. She held her tongue.

"Here," he intertwined her fingers with the manes, "don't let go." She let out a nervous giggle as the horse shifted underneath her. No, she wasn't planning on letting go any time soon. As the black wizard mounted behind her she suddenly was very grateful for this reliable force behind her. Kingsley would never let her fall.

"Alright then," said Moody. "Everyone ready, please; I want us all to leave at the exact same time or the whole point of the diversion I lost."

Everybody mounted their brooms.

"Good luck everyone," shouted Moody. "See you all in about an hour at the Burrow. On the count of three. One… two… TREE."

There was a great roar from the motorbike and Hermione felt her stomach lurch as the Thestral ran a few steps before launching into the air. It made her think of the time she had taken a plane to Swiss with her parents, she hadn't liked it one bit.

And then, out of nowhere, out of nothing, they were surrounded. At least thirty hooded figures, suspended in mid-air, formed a vast circle in the midst of which the Order members had risen, oblivious -

Screams, a blaze of green light. "Hold on!" Kingsley screamed as they shot through the circle. She felt him turn behind her as he shot several spells to the Death Eaters. Hermione fumbled for her wand, why hadn't she had it in her hands in the first place. Moody had assured them nothing much would happen; three or four standing guard. They had been betrayed. As the Thestral shot away at great speed Hermione could only hope Draco wasn't there with them.

Draco hated the waiting, waiting for Harry to make a move. So far it had been quiet, apart for the rest of his family who had left the house. But Harry was still inside and sources had told he would be moved tonight. So here they were, all thirty two of them waiting for Harry to run. Like a rabbit in a field full of foxes. Draco would have chuckled if his ass didn't hurt so much from sitting on his broom for hours. And that mask wasn't all that comfortable either.

Suddenly with a deafening roar a whole group of people shot into their circle. He spotted Harry immediately sitting on a black flying horse. He pulled out his wand and set off in pursuit. He still had to repay him for that time in the bathroom.

The horse was fast, but his new broom didn't do under. He had acquired it just last week, hoping to join the Slytherin Quidditch team again. The dark wizard threw several curses his way but it was just as easy as dodging Bludgers. He heard a scream behind him and saw that Travers had been hit, his hood fallen off. He almost got hit square in the face himself when he turned back to Harry.

"Crucio!" he shouted at the broad back of the wizard. He twitched for a moment but then the contact was lost and he started shooting spells again. The horse was gaining territory on him, and his fellow Death Eaters were falling behind. If he let this continue he would lose them.

For a moment Voldemort joined the chase and Draco urged his broom to go even faster. Draco noticed he was holding his fathers wand.

"This isn't him," the dark Lord bellowed before disappearing just as soon as he had come. Still focussing of the black horse Draco remembered the spell Harry had used on him. How could he forget when it still haunted his dreams at night.

"Sectumsempra!" The horse let out an unearthly cry and faltered, it's wing bleeding from several cuts. Draco winced as he saw what he had done to the poor beast, he hadn't meant-

He hadn't meant for Charity Burbage to get killed, either. Did it matter? Your a man now, a Malfoy, the voice of his father seared through his head.

Draco watched as gravity started to win the fight of live and death and couldn't bring up even one ounce of satisfaction. Would Hermione cry when she found Harry had been taken. Don't think about that.

Before the horse crashed to the ground the two wizards disapparated. Draco cursed. Fifty yards further they suddenly appeared and rolled over the ground, due to the impact. The dark wizard was knocked out immediately, Draco saw as he landed his broom.

His wand out he walked to Harry laying face up in the grass, his left leg in an unusual angle. With a cry of pain Harry shot up, reaching for his broken leg.

"Going somewhere, Potter?" he said, adding some of his usual sneer. Perhaps Voldemort would give his father back his wand now that he had captured the chosen one. At least he wouldn't have to listen to him slandering his family any longer.

"Draco," he sobbed. There was fear in his eyes as he scrambled back, dragging his useless leg over the ground. They glistened with tears, big tears rolling down his cheeks. He'd never seen Potter cry.

"Draco, please." His voice- so soft, pleading. "Please." He sounded just like-

"Hermione."

 _A/N This chapter is dedicated to Snowflake Dazzle, I'm always looking forward to your reviews :)_


	21. Chapter 21: Crushed, Shattered, Broken

An unearthly cry cut through the night sky and before she knew it they were falling.

"What is happening?" Hermione yelled in a panic as her stomach reared in protest. This was not looking good at all.

"The wings, they're injured." She wished he hadn't said that. First Voldemort and now this. The ground was looming dangerously close and they were not losing any speed at all.

"We're gonna die, we're gonna die," she muttered as she closed her eyes wondering if soon she'd see her whole life shoot past.

"We'll jump."

What? That sounded like the worst plan ever. "Let go off the manes Hermione." She couldn't hear him. He pried her fingers loose and cursed before wrapping his arms around her. Suddenly she was being pressed from all sides, her eyes nearly pushed back into her sockets. Of course, she thought as she let the familiar feeling wash over her, they were apparating.

The calm was short lived and they hit the ground hard. All air escaped her lungs as she rolled over. An immense pain seared through her body and she cried out as she reached for her leg, broken.

"Going somewhere, Potter?" Her heart stilled in terror as she looked up and beheld his cold silver eyes.

"Draco," the sob escaped her lips before she could think to hold it back. Such hatred shined through those eyes, his mask barley able to contain it. His wand was out as he advanced on her. A terrible thought sliped into her head; He's going to kill me. Avada Kedavra, those are going to be the last words I'll ever hear. She tried to move back, dragging her useless leg with. The pain nothing compared to what he was doing to her heart.

"Draco, please," she whimpered. "Please." Stupid, stupid tears were flowing down her cheeks, sobs escaping her throat. She had always imagined she'd die with some dignity, not like a sobbing idiot, killed by the man she loved. And then-

"Hermione." He stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes unreadable. For a moment he saw her, truly saw her and then he stumbled backwards, mounting his broom.

"I-" He opened his mouth a few times more but words were lost to him. With one last look back at her he shot into the sky.

Gone, just gone.

White blotches were dancing in front of her eyes and she fell back, holding on to the pain in her leg hoping to drown the pain in her chest.

"Hermione, wake up." She blinked. Kingsley was standing beside her, trying to pick her up.

"You're head, you're bleeding." She reached out for the big gash on his temple and then stared at the blood glistening on her fingers, fascinated. She cried out when he lifted her up and was reminded of her leg, "Oh."

"We'll apparate to our destination, it isn't safe here. Hold on." Again that familiar feeling of being pressed from all sides. For a moment nothing hurt, until the air cleared again and Kingsley was walking towards a small house somewhere in the suburbs. Inside he put her down on a pink couch with a flower pattern and disappeared in what was presumably the kitchen. He returned with a bottle.

"Drink some of this, it'll help." With his wand he carefully cut open her trousers and traced a soft glow over her legs. "Definitely broken," he sighed and sat down on the brown arm chair. Seeing Hermione sniff at the bottle dubiously he explained, "It's brandy, muggle liquor." Hermione took a few sips and let the warmth run through her veins.

"The thing is, I can't heal you're leg while you're still Harry, it would do more bad than good. We'll have to wait until the Polyjuice has completely worked out." Listening to his explanation Hermione took another sip and nodded. She didn't really care much any more.

"The Portkey leaves in twenty minutes. I'm going to clean this," he pointed to his head, "in the kitchen."

Again Hermione nodded but Kingsley was already gone.

Draco tried to kill her, the words shot through her head with every breath she took. And with every heartbeat she remembered the cold in his eyes. That wasn't something he did to protect his family, Voldermort didn't put that malice in there. No, it was all Draco. She could barely think the words, some part of her still in denial; Draco truly is evil.

But he hesitated, that tiny part screamed. He hesitated and left.

Hermione, the way he had said her name, surprise mixed with such anguish. Her eyes were dry and the bottle was already half empty when Kingsley entered the room, the gash on his head no more than a pink line. Still, it was a stark contrast against his dark skin.

"That's my grandmother," he said seeing her stare at the pictures standing on the dresser. She hadn't really been looking. It took Hermione a moment to notice the pictures weren't moving.

"She was a muggle."

Kingsley nodded, "My mother was a witch. I spent my summers here, until I went to Hogwarts." She thought of her own parents, sitting on some beach drinking cocktails and ridding kangaroos. Oh, how she missed her mother.

"It's time," Kingsley said after a while of contemplative silence. He walked over and picked her up, carrying her to the small hallway. A bent coat hanger was faintly glowing on the small dressing table. With some difficulty they both got their hands on it and a whirling feeling again got Hermione's stomach in an uproar. Kingsley made sure he landed carefully and discarded the used Portkey.

She heart running footsteps and saw Harry and Lupin coming there way.

"What happened?" Harry yelled and Hermione already had a feeling he would feel immensely guilty even though none of it was his fault.

Lupin was less welcoming, drawing his wand on both of them."The last words Albus Dumbledore spoke to the pair of us?"

" _Harry is the best hope we have. Trust him,_ " said Kingsley calmly and continued his way to the Burrow. He raised an eyebrow at Harry but Lupin nodded to confirm he had already checked.

"What happened?" Harry repeated worriedly as Kingsley placed Hermione on the couch.

"They hit the Thestral and we fell, somehow we lost them. And You-Know-Who can-"

"Fly," Harry finished his sentence. "Yeah, we saw him too."

Her head started itching as Hermione's hair grew back to its usual length. A tingling sensation went through her legs as they cropped and it felt almost as if the bone was mending itself together.

"Ah!" she screamed and shot up as a loud crack went through the room. Everyone looked at her in surprise. Her leg had broken itself again for good measure. Marvelous.

"What happened to him?" she asked as she noticed one of the twins on the other couch, one side of his head crusted in blood.

"Snape," Lupin mumbled darkly as he came over to inspect her broken bone. Pulling out his wand he traced it over her leg and muttered several incantations.

"It'll be alright in an hour or so," he said and she thanked him. The healing was even more agonizing than the actual break. It was a nagging pain that made her nauseous and the constant worrying about the rest didn't help much either.

After every one had arrived safely and Moody's death had been toasted everyone went to bed. It had taken Hermione and Ginny some time to turn off their light as she had wanted to know everything that had happened. She still hadn't been able to tell her about Draco and perhaps she never would. Not when something had so definitely been broken between them. Her leg healed but still throbbing annoyingly Hermione couldn't get to sleep however much she tried. Her mind was racing, retracing everything that had happened, trying to find some indication, anything, that told her Draco wasn't inherently evil.

Eventually she kicked aside the covers and went downstairs.

She thought about the chickens too late as she stepped outside. Surprisingly nothing happened.

"I put a silent spell over their coop." Hermione whirled around to see Bill seated on the wooden bench beneath the kitchen window.

"Couldn't sleep?" She nodded and moved to sit beside him.

They stayed in silence for a while, each enjoying the night air.

"I saw Draco today," Hermione started tears rolling down her face. She wiped them away angrily. "He- he tried to kill me- I mean Harry." Bill just nodded, inviting her to continue.

"He had such hatred in his eyes and I… I was so afraid." She was crying again and Bill put an arm around her letting her blubber on his shirt.

"But then.. then he recognized me and just… took off." Hermione shakes her head. "I keep telling myself: he must be evil, those eyes, no one can fake that. But this part of me somehow still believes in him, still… loves him." She fell silent at those words, yes, somehow she still loved him. She didn't think that would ever change. It disgusted her.

"I hate myself for that," she whispered finally.

Bill pulled back taking her tear streaked face in his hands. "Hé, hé. Remember what I said? Love is never wrong. Do you remember?" Hermione nodded sheepishly as he wiped away her tears with his thumbs.

"I'm so sorry, you're going to marry in a few days and here I am making such a big deal about nothing," she said suddenly embarrassed.

"You're not, Hermione. Remember what you told me that very same night?" Hermione gazed up to him with big eyes. "You told me you are allowed to feel shit sometimes."

Hermione frowned, recalling their conversation. "I believe I said something like don't validate you're feelings on someone else's situation. But yeah, that basically covers it." He smirked at her and Hermione took over his smile, feeling much better.

"And how about you? Big day coming up."

Bill smiled dreamily. "You know… I think I'm happy." Hermione regarded him with surprise and then could only feel joy for him. "I mean, I know there is a war coming up and such but Fleur, Fleur just makes me happy and I truly love her. I couldn't have wanted for a better woman to share the rest of my life with."

Hermione put a hand on his arm. "I am truly glad I can be there at you're wedding."

Sunlight was reaching over the edge of the world announcing the new day when Hermione and Bill returned to their rooms.

In front of her room she halted, softly calling out to Bill who was about to climb another stairs. He turned to her.

"You'll make for an amazing dad," she said.

 _A/N What are you guys thinking of the story so far? Tips?_


	22. Chapter 22: A Light in the Darkness

**A/N Hello again. After nearly 2 months here is the next chapter. Can't say how long it will take to finish the story, probably a while at the rate at which I'm not ever finding time to type. I'm so sorry to all the people who enjoy reading Without You. For now I promise I will try staying in the flow and uploading some more over the next few weeks. Anyway, here goes and don't forget to leave a comment :)**

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Hermione turned the small book over in her hands, her mind plagued with questions. It was past eleven and Ginny was snoring in her bed, her covers pulled up against the light of the blue fire burning merrily in its glass jar.

 _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_ , children's stories all wizarding children grew up with, according to Ron. What was so important about this book that Dumbledore had left it to her? And what was she supposed to find that the ministry had failed to detect throughout an entire month of investigating? And what of Harry's snitch; she had been so sure it would open the moment Harry laid his fingers on it, only it hadn't. Instead it had just revealed a riddle, _I open at the close_. And Ron's _deluminator_ was yet another mystery she was breaking her head over.

She sighed and turned to put the book on her night stand, on top of a dark green notebook. She pulled the notebook towards her and stared at the cover. She had wanted to forget about it and for a while she had, but when it had turned up, while she had been sorting her books, she hadn't been able to throw it away.

She had bought the book at the beginning of last year, real dragon leather cover, they'd said and enchanted so only the owner couldn't read it. It had taken Hermione a while to duplicate the spell but now she used it on practically all her notes, and especially her diary – though lately Hermione didn't know what to write any more. After that the notebook had lost his value, until -

Until she had requested Draco to never call her a mudblood again, in payment for saving him from Filch in the library, and for a while he hadn't.

She knew the first page to be full. She remembered how she had felt with him, how their bodies had seemed to fit like they had been made for each other, and then mere hours later he had called her a mudblood, told her that this could never be. She had checked once, out of morbid curiosity, just to see whether her spell had worked.

She opened the notebook once again.

 _You're a mudblood!_ was crawled in angry handwriting across the page, the ink crudely forced into the paper. She pressed the book against her chest and had to remember to breath as she held back her tears. She shouldn't have touched the book, she wished she had thrown it away before ever leaving Hogwarts. She wished she had never even made him promise it all.

Crookshanks trotted into the room and demanded attention with a little miaow. She jumped unto the bed and started licking Hermione's face. Despite everything Hermione laughed and put her arms around the red furball.

With a thump the notebook fell onto the ground. She put her finger to her lips to warn Crookshanks to be quiet and carefully picked up the book, silently listening for Ginny's even breathing. She was still sleeping.

As she turned the notebook her heart stilled, pages upon pages had been filled with words, sentences. Some pages filled to the brim, others just containing several words. She leaved through them, unable to read for the tears where blocking her sight.

 _Mudblood Granger, I didn't mean that, you just said you'd know, you know?_

 _Mudblood Granger, perhaps this is a bad idea._

 _Mudblood Granger, are you there?_

 _Mudblood Granger, I don't mean to insult you or anything…_

 _Mudblood Granger, I guess I just wanted to say I'm sorry._

 _Mudblood Granger, goodnight._

 _Mudblood Granger, I know you're angry._

 _Mudblood Granger, I had chicken soup for dinner tonight._

 _Mudblood Granger, I hope you're having a fun summer._

She turned page after page, all dated from this summer. How could she not have noticed? When she finally got to the last page she saw it was dated just days ago. She reread the words over and over and fell asleep, the book in her arms and Crookshanks sleeping on her legs.

 _Mudblood Granger, I saw you today, it breaks my heart to think of how you must hate me, I'm sorry._

 _.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-._

Hermione looked it all over once more. Ginny's room was filled with the usual clutter but none of it belonged to Hermione. She had woken early to make sure everything she could need was in the little purple purse she'd enchanted to carry everything she'd need on the road. Perhaps she would put in some of the leftovers from the wedding later, but just in case she had already enough to last them a few days. She had been carrying the little purse everywhere she went these last weeks, always ready to leave at a moments notice.

As she walked down the steps she clutched the railing, scared to break her neck in the silver heels Fleur had made her wear. Sure, they made her legs look fabulous, but it wouldn't be very charming if she was stuck to her chair all evening. Luckily she had also gotten instructions on a spell to make the walking easier, but apparently that didn't quite work on stairs.

The whole house had been in an uproar all morning, everything needed last time adjustmants or perfections and Ginny had worked several hours to get Hermione's hair looking this smooth, it had also been a pain to get her to look less like a panda and more like a respictable human being. She stopped in front of the lopsided mirror in the hallway and took a hand through her slightly wavy hair. She did look marvellous, despite everything.

After reading Draco's words last night it had given her new energy, hope that when all this was over there would be a future. She had also decided to leave all the considering for after the wedding.

One unpleasant encounter with the Great Aunt Muriel later Hermione found herself hurrying towards Harry, disguised as a Weasley cousin, and Ron. And even though usually she'd be feeling the full force of the witche's insult, today it just slid off her like water.

"You look great!" Ron remarked, his eyes big and his mouth half open.

"Always the tone of surprise," she said, but laughed. But before Ron could tell her he hadn't meant it like that, a dark haired young man held out his invitation to him.

"You look vunderful."

"Viktor!" Hermione shrieked and – to Ron's dismal – she flung herself at him.

"I didn't know you were – goodness – it's lovely to see – how are you?" she scrambled over her words and let go of him to study him over. She had written to him last Christmas and they'd send a few owls between them but he hadn't mentioned he'd be coming.

Ron eyed the invitation suspiciously and eager to disrupt the happy reunion he required after his reason of being here.

"Fleur invited me," Krum answered, eyebrows raised.

Harry, sensing an argument shook hands and offered to show him his seat, leaving Ron sulking around Hermione.

"Your boyfriend is looking good," he said after a few seconds of silence.

"He's not my-" Hermione sighed and threw her hands up in the air in desperation. She had no time to be considerate of his feelings. "I'm going to help Ginny with her dress," she said and abrubtly turned back to the house.

Hermione only reappeared just in time for the ceremony and quietly slid onto her seat next to Ron. He didn't acknowledge her.

The whole wizarding wedding was breathtaking and she saw how Bill glowed with happiness as he took Fleur as his wife. She pinched away a tear and was surprised when Ron grudgingly gave her the handkerchief belonging to his dressing robes.

"We should go and congratulate them!" Hermione suggested as she tried to see over the heads of the well-wishers that were crowding Bill and Fleur.

"We'll have time later," shrugged Ron and they followed Harry to a table on the other side of the marquee.

"Hello Harry, beautiful ceremony, isn't it?" Luna said as they sat down next to her. Hermione had to avert her eyes from the bright yellow dress she was wearing.

"How did she-?"

"Beats me," Ron said to Hermione. "She recognized him the moment she entered the garden." Despite the inconvenience she smiled, somehow their love just seemed so uncomplicated.

Harry and Luna left for the dance floor and before Ron had a chance to ask Hermione, Viktor swooped in and took her with.

In his arms she once again was transported back to the Yule Ball nearly two years ago.

"I missed you," she confessed, leaning against his shoulder. He mumbled the same words into her hair and for a moment Hermione wished she could have fallen in love with Viktor, instead. They would meet up again, after she'd finished school and some years later they'd marry. She'd have job at the ministry and he would continue Quidditch or perhaps become a coach. They'd have children, a boy and a girl, smart and good at sports. And they'd fight about whether they'd go to _Hogwarts_ or Durmstrang. In the end they would go to Hogwarts and be sorted into Gryffindor or Ravenclaw.

Her daydream crumbled and disappeared when they bumped into a yellow figure moving wildly over the dance floor. For a moment Hermione thought it was Luna, but it was an older man apologizing to him profusely.

"Xenophilius Lovegood is the name, and again terribly sorry," he said lively as he turned away to continue his extravagant dance.

"How dare he wear the sign," Viktor grumbled, standing as still as a statue.

"What sign?" Hermione enquired, looking curiously at Luna's father.

"Grindevald's sign." Hermione squinted her eyes and could only just make out the triangle with an eye in it Xenophilius wore as a necklace, she had a feeling she had seen it before.

"Grindelwald … the Dark wizard Dumbledore defeated?" she asked, taking Viktor away from the dance floor. She had read about this wizard, though he did not often appear in the standard history books ad Hogwarts.

"Grindelvald killed many people, my grandfather for instance. His symbol," he pointed at Xenophilius, "I recognised it at vunce: Grindevald carved it into a vall at Durmstrang ven he was a pupil there." Hermione listened to the rest of his story while mulling her brain to find where she had seen the symbol before; it seemed important.

When the sky grew dark and her feet grew weary from all the dancing Hermione sagged into the chair next to Harry's. She slipped off her shoes and rubbed her heels as she greeted Harry.

"Ron's just gone to get more Butterbeers," she said and was about to tell him about Viktor's story when she noticed the gloomy look about his face. "What's wrong?"

At that moment something large and silvery came falling through the canopy. Graceful and gleaming, the lynx landed lightly in the middle of the astonished dancers. Heads turned, as those nearest it froze. Then the Patronus's mouth opened wide and spoke in the loud deep voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt.

 _"The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming."_


End file.
